The Other Road
by BarboraMars
Summary: One car, two lost souls and a road trip that will change their lives forever. AU/AH
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

Scanning the crowd for a raven haired man seemed to get harder every day.  
Elena sat on a park bench facing the city, the wind playing with her long curls. People were laughing, walking down the street with their friends, making the minutes count, while she just sat there, wasting away the supposed best years of her life.  
At the age of 31, she knew those moments of carefree freedom were long lost to her.  
She let her eyes travel from person to person, disappointment washing over her in all-too familiar waves.  
He was not there and he would not be coming back.  
She knew that. She knew that for years, but looked for him nevertheless.  
She looked for him every day.

The sun was shining brighter, she realized. It was warmer, too. Almost May. Almost the day she met him.  
She loved Barcelona at this time of the day. The air smelled like nothing she'd ever breathed before, so sweet, so different than the dusty smelly bars they had walked through together.  
"Elena" a voice called behind her.  
She slowly turned around and smiled. She saw Amy, her brother's daughter that's been living with her for a while now.  
Ever since her brother's death.  
She took in her appearence as she got closer.  
The same smile and dark eyes.  
Jeremy's smile, the one that's been breaking her heart since she first smiled at her, relieved to see her aunt after the social workers questioned her for hours.  
The same dark eyes that've been staring back at her every time she looked in the mirror.  
The similitaries with her family ended there, but it was enough to remind her of all she's lost.  
Amy sat down beside her and kissed her cheek. "Guess what," she said.  
"What?"  
"Oh, come on, you've gotta guess," she pouted.  
"Alright, then. You managed to make yourself breakfast and not burn down the kitchen?" she asked, teasing her.  
"Hey, that was one time!"  
"Whatever, A. What have you been up to?"  
Amy dug into her purse, taking out a sheet of hard paper and holding it in front of her face.  
She recognized it immediately.  
A one way ticket to New York.  
Amy was leaving.  
She looked up to her, hoping her eyes held nothing but pride.  
"April 29th, huh?"  
"Yes," Amy was almost jumping from glee.  
"Don't pee your pants from all the excitment, please " she said jokingly.  
"Don't worry. I'm meeting Paolo later, I'm wearing a skirt." she got the witty comebacks from her and sometimes it came all the way around to bite her in the ass. Like now.  
"Ugh, I so DIDN'T need to hear that."  
"Don't be such a prude, El. I heard the stories of you and Matt. I had nightmares for years."  
She rolled her eyes. Life would be much easier if this was true. Unfortunately, there weren't any stories to tell.  
"Packed your bags yet?" she asked.  
"Nope. I ran here to show you."  
"Oh why thank you. I've never seen a ticket in my life."  
"Do you always have to be like this?" Amy asked annoyed.  
"So damn perfect, you mean?"  
If looks could kill, she'd be long dead by now.  
She sighed "You know I'm happy for you, A. And so pround."  
Amy quickly hugged her and jumped from her seat.  
"Gotta run. Paolo's waiting. Bye, Elena!" And she was gone.  
The kid's got admitted to NYU. She was flying back to the US, to spend some time with her mother.  
Elena wasn't particulary happy about that fact, but supported her decision, anyway.  
She would miss her, though. A lot.

It was time for lunch. Restaurants were filled with people and tourists, laughing and eating the Spanish food she never particularly liked.  
Looking around, he was still not there.  
No piercing blue eyes that cut straight through her soul.  
Or face, more beautiful than anything she'd ever seen in her life.  
A face she didn't remember that well anymore.  
At first, she could see him, clear as a day, everytime she closed her eyes.  
But then the time worked its magic and blurred the memory of him.  
She tried to hold onto it with all she had, but she was helpless against a process she couldn't affect.  
And she didn't even have a photograph.  
Despite it all, she still believed she'd recognize him, no matter what.  
She might not remember the exact color of his eyes, but she remembered his spirit, knew the energy flowing around him.  
She knew it, because it was part of her, too.  
God, she missed him. A little too much and a little bit more everyday.  
And it wasn't fair. Not to her husband, the one she was mentaly cheating on for so long.  
And definitely not to her, either.  
One day, years ago, she told him, she'd lie for him in a heartbeat. She didn't know back then, how true that statement would ring after all this time.

He was her dirty little secret.  
It used to make her so mad she wanted to scream his name at the top of her lungs, every day, always.  
She kept her mouth shut.  
No one ever knew.  
She never told a single soul where she had been when she disappeared for six months.  
No one ever knew that she met a guy and that he irrevocably changed her, forever.

She was 24 when they met. 24 and lost in every way a person can be lost.  
Freshly out of school and broke, she was pretty fed up with life as she knew it. She was bored and in desperate need of an adventure, or a friend.  
So she took a bus to Downtown Atlanta and found both.


	2. Chapter 2

**7 Years Ago**

* * *

**May 1st**

Sitting in a bar has never been less comfortable, Elena thought. The little building was a bit too crowded and messy for her taste, and the people around her freaked her out.  
She wasn't used to this.  
On the contrary, she'd spent all her life in the tidiest of rooms with the cleanest of people.  
What she saw right now made her shiver with disgust.  
The bar wasn't particularly dirty, but the air smelled like pot and sweat, making her sick, and she was more than sure that the guy sitting next to her hasn't shaved or brushed his teeth in...well, at least a few years.

The bartender, an old man with a towel thrown over his shoulder, asked for her order, making her feel like a little girl with his scrutinizing gaze.  
She asked for bourbon.  
It was something, she's never drunk before, but that was the point, right?  
She was looking for something new, and that included trying new things. Like alcohol.  
She made a grimace as it slid down her throat. Yuck.  
"First time, huh?" said a smooth voice beside her.  
She looked up, catching the eyes of a stranger watching her. And what eyes they were. They took her breath away, the piercing blue so icy and warm at the same time.  
"Maybe "she answered, taking in his dark hair and face to die for.  
He took the glass from in between her fingers and gulped it in one breath.  
"Hey!"  
"Bourbon? A girl like you? Next time, you should, perhaps, aim for something a bit more...you know, girly," he smirked at her.  
She just stared at him. Who the hell does he think he is?  
Annoyed, Elena turned around, not sparing him a second glance. I wouldn't drink that thing anyway, she thought.  
"So, tell me, what is someone like you doing in a place like this?" he asked, moving closer to her, invading her personal space.  
She felt trapped instantly. He sensed her discomfort and sat back in his place, but didn't give up his question.  
"So?" He asked.  
She looked at him again, trying to figure him out.  
"Why would I tell you?" Elena wondered aloud.  
"Because," he pointed his finger at himself "You a) can't resist my charm, and b) are just dying to talk to me."  
She burst out laughing. Was he serious?  
"Cocky much?" she asked, amused.  
"You have no idea," he said, grinning like a 5 year old boy with a cookie. "You still haven't answered my question, though."  
"I'm...drinkin'?"  
"Why are you drinking here and not with your fancy friends in some fancy club in the center?"  
Was he just trying to make her mad? He knew exactly zero about her or her life, yet here he was making assumptions based on nothing.  
"Screw. You."  
"Right now?"  
"Seriously?"  
"I'd rather make it fun."  
"Are you such a pain in the ass naturaly or are you just trying particularly hard today?"  
"It takes talent," he shrugged.  
She sighed, standing up.  
"I'd say it was nice to meet you,but it really wasn't, so..." she waved her hand in his direction and threw some money on the counter.

Tracy Chapman's "Fast Car" came on in that moment and her face lit up a smile.  
"I love this song," the stranger said.  
"Me too." It was probably the saddest song she's ever heard, but the realness of it was what made it so beautiful.  
"Wanna dance?" he asked suddenly, offering her his hand.  
She eyed it warily, their previous conversation still fresh in her mind.  
But why not?  
He was hot, she loved this song and today was all about taking chances, so why not this one?  
She took his hand and let him lead her to the made up dance floor.

With his arms wrapped around her, she found herself leaning into him, breathing in his unique scent. He was humming along to the melody, making her smile once again.  
Although his obvious tactlessness and annoyingly witty comebacks drove her crazy, she hasn't smiled so much or laughed as hard in a very long time.

Who was this guy?

The song slowly faded into the backround and she let go of his hand. He smiled at her and asked "Can I buy you a drink? The one I stole? I promise you to play nice."  
"You're gonna play nice, huh? Do you even know how to do that?" Alright, he was amusing, she had to give him that.  
He put a hand over his heart, in a mock hurt. "Are you doubting me?"  
"Of course not, Mr. Nice." She laughed. "One drink."  
"One drink, it is," he marched over to the bar, ordering a whole bottle.  
"Are you retarded or something?"  
"Nope, why?"  
"Because that's a bottle, not a drink," she said matter-of-factly.  
"No shit, Sherlock."  
"Aren't you a smartass."  
"Why, thank you I do have a nice ass."  
Elena rolled her eyes. He was impossible.  
She took the bottle from him and swallowed. How can anyone even drink that?  
She felt him watching her.  
"Stop staring."  
"Why?"  
"It's creepy."  
"No, it's not. The way you drink on the other hand, that's creepy," he pointed out.  
Damn him.  
He took the bottle back, drinkin' and drinkin' and...drinkin'.  
"Stop it. It's not water." She put her hand over his mouth making him choke. He started caughing, spitting the liquor all over her.  
"Ewww. Jeesus," she wiped her arm into his shirt.  
He stopped caughing then, staring daggers at her instead.  
"Did you just try to kill me?" he asked.  
"What? No. I wanted to stop you from killing yourself with alcohol poisoning."  
"That would hardly kill me."  
"It might."  
"No."  
Is he incapable of decent human conversation?  
She turned away from him and looked around her. The smelly guy from before was gone. Weird, she didn't notice him leaving.  
"So tell me, why are you here?" she asked, suddenly eager to get to know anything there was to learn about him.  
"Drinking," he repeated her earlier words.  
"You promised to play nice."  
"Alright then," he sighed dramatically "I'm just stopping by, actually. I'm on my way to New York City."  
She raised her eyebrows. "New York, huh?"  
"Yeah. Ever been to?"  
"I was born there." She said, her tone changing, the memories making their way to the surface. And not the happy ones, either.  
He picked up on that immediately. "So how did you end up in Atlanta, then?" he asked, slightly confused.  
"Long story." She really didn't feel like getting into that, and definitely not with him.  
Thankfully, he respected that.

It struck her that they never even exchanged names.  
"What is it, now?" he asked, seeing the look on her face.  
"I don't even know your name."  
"Really."  
She nodded in a pretended seriousness.  
He sighed and extended his hand. "I'm Damon."  
"Elena. Nice to meet you."  
"It is now, isn't it?" He smirked.  
"You are the worst."  
"So I've been told," he said, somewhat less jokingly than before.  
"So, D. Why New York?"  
"It's Damon. And I don't know, never been there before, I guess."  
"It's not that awesome."  
His eyes locked with hers, making her shiver.  
"We'll see."  
Her cellphone screen lit up in that moment. The name she saw making her shiver again, but this time for a completely different reason. She pressed ignore and looked at the time.  
She should head home now.  
"Gotta go, Damon. Have a safe trip."  
The look on his face changed from playful to disappointed in a second. He watched as she threw her things in her bag.  
"Really have to go already?"  
Did she? She wasn't sure. Especially not while he was looking at her with those sad, beautiful eyes.  
"Don't you?" she asked him.  
He didn't answer right away, the three words that changed the course of her life forever, taking their sweet time.

"Come with me."

Wait, what?  
He was going to give her a heart attack. She would swore her heart has never been beating as fast as in this moment, while she was contemplating his offer.  
Or was she?  
Better question, could she?  
Who was he, anyway?  
Well, he could be a serial killer, or a rapist, or... the possibilities were endless.  
But.  
Why the hell not?  
To hell with everything.  
This life was killing her, anyway.  
He would either do it faster or save her.  
She looked him in the eyes, not knowing yet, that with this one word, she was saving his life.

"Okay."

* * *

_AN: So, here's the first chapter, guys. Hope you'll like it. :)_


	3. Chapter 3

**May 2nd**

They say a road trip is the biggest test of a relationship.  
You are trapped in a small space with no way to escape with the person you love, that you often are on the verge of murdering by the end of the trip. Most of the time, it won't come to that, because you either give up and take a bus home or just give up.

This all, of course, would apply to two people that know and care about each other enough to stay strong and not punch one another in the face.

But what if you travel with a stranger?  
Is something like that a good idea in the first place?

That was the question Elena pondered, while she was watching her new friend refueling the car, all the while talking to it like it was a real person. He was driving an old blue Chevy Camaro called Baby Girl as he proudly informed her when they approached the car for the first time. She laughed so hard, she couldn't breath, which kind of insulted him. He looked at her with that murdering-you look and that made her laugh even harder.  
And then he almost left her there.  
But thankfully, he was willing to forgive her after she apologized and the next thing she knew, they were speeding down the highway, leaving Atlanta behind.

The landscape was passing by in a blur behind Elena's window when she asked him which route they're taking. His answer was surprising enough when he said it's up to her.  
They stopped in a little town then, checked into a motel and bought at least hundred US maps.  
Soon, she was wearily reminded that he really didn't care as he slumped onto his bed, asleep right on the spot. And since he gave her a free hand, she had spent all evening planning her dream trip through Savannah, Charlestone, Annapolis and finally New York.  
Damon was okay with that, but they haven't hit the road right way. She needed to buy some clothes and other necessities like a toothbrush for example, because, as Damon later pointed out, she left Atlanta empty handed.  
But now, they were all set and ready to go.

Elena would lie if she said she wasn't terrified. Sure, he hasn't murdered her yet, but he was driving her crazy with his smartass comments.  
Other than that though, he was suprisingly easy to be with, they talked a lot about everything and anything and he never forced himself on her. And their bickering was kinda entertaining.

She watched him pay the gas man, appreciating his perfect physique, but only when he couldn't call her out on it. If he knew she found him attractive, she would never hear the end of it.  
"I hate small town gas stations," he murmured to himself as he got into the driver seat.  
"Why?" She asked, bored, her attention on a small child sitting on a pavement eating ice cream. She wanted ice cream, too. Chocolate ice cream.  
"They look at you like you are a fucking alien for asking a newspaper. Hey, what you staring at?" he asked, trying to find the thing that caught her eye.  
"I want ice cream, too."  
"And you couldn't have said that while I was inside that thing?" He pointed to the building, annoyed.  
"I didn't know yet."  
"That's too bad, then. For you."  
She looked at him, pouting.  
"Stop it," he suddenly looked uncomfortable, trying to look at anything but her. "Come on, El, stop it."  
She didn't, so with an angry "Screw it," he got out of the car and ran back to the gas station. She watched him in amazement. She didn't think he would actually go back, but there he was.  
Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.  
"Here is your goddamned ice cream," he said throwing it at her face. She caught it mid air, smiling. Chocolate. Yum.  
He started the engine and they finally drove away.

* * *

**May 7th**

"I'm on a highway to hell!"  
"On a highway to hell!"  
They were singing their hearts out, driving down the empty road, AC/DC on a full blast.  
They were driving for some time now, Damon taking every backroad then turning around, back on the highway.  
When she asked him about that, he said you find the most interesting places taking the wrong turns.  
He might be right.  
"So, where are we eating tonight?" he asked.  
"Are we stopping in a town?"  
"That depends."  
"On what?" she asked, smiling at him, her elbow resting on the window.  
"Well, do _you_ wanna stop in a town?" He glanced at her.  
"That's for me to know and for you to..."  
Now, he was glaring. She laughed.  
There were together for a week now, and she could honestly say she's never had more fun in her whole life.  
They spent most of the time in bars on the sides of the roads, drinking, dancing and then sleeping it off the next day. All in all, they drove very little, and partied a lot.  
She liked it.  
And she liked him. But the wierd thing was, while she was attracted to him, she couldn't imagine him being anything else but a friend.  
A friend.  
She's never had a friend in her life.  
It felt...good.  
She smiled.  
He was focused on the road ahead, his dark hair falling into his eyes.

'Highway to hell' started playing again, Damon had it on repeat. He said it reminded him of better days.  
"Come on El, sing it up!" He turned to her, already yelling the chorus at the top of his lungs.  
She was shy. At least that's what he said when she told him she can't sing. Well, after he called her a buzzkill Bob, that is.  
The thing was, she's never sung aloud in front of anyone.  
That kind of thing wasn't allowed where she grew up and that combined with a lot of other things made her kind of reserved. And detached.  
But it seemed he made it his life's mission to chase her out of her shell.  
So he made her sing. And sing and sing and sing...till it didn't feel so uncomfortable anymore.  
Although, the uneasy feelings never truly left her.

There was a sign ahead of them, pointing to a motel with a diner.  
"We stopping there?" Damon asked.  
"Yeah, I'm hungry," Elena answered, her fingers on the door handle, tapping on it impatiently.  
The parking lot wasn't much of a parking lot, really. More like a two empty spaces and a trash can. They stopped in front of it and looked around.  
"Huh, this looks..." she began.  
"Disgusting?" he finished.  
She nodded. "Is there a chance we'll find something better?"  
"We could try. But do you see that?" he pointed at the darkened sky, "I think there's a storm coming."  
And what a storm it was. She could see the lightning bolts already. It was quite scary.  
"We better check in, then," she said and got out of the car, Damon right behind her.  
They picked up some food, first. Suprisingly edible food.  
Maybe it was just her hunger speaking, but she had to order another portion of fries before they even left the diner.  
That wasn't the only surprise, though.  
When they asked for two separate rooms, the angry owner guy murmured that there's only one available.  
Damon looked at her, a question in his eyes.  
In that moment, the thunder decided it was time to play them the song of its people, so with a sigh, she nodded.

The room they were given didn't look like much, only one king sized bed and a little table with two chairs behind it. There wasn't even a TV. Or a fridge.  
It would have to do, though.

They fought over the bathroom for a while, but when Damon realized he didn't stand a chance against a woman in a desperate need of shower, he quietly resigned.

Later, when they were both clean and safey wrapped in the covers, the light flickered and then went out.  
"Oh God," Elena let out a long breath, a little freaked out.  
Damon just laughed quietly. She turned to him and found him already facing her side.  
"Aren't you scared?" she whispered.  
"No," he said. "Storms don't scare me anymore."  
"They used to?"  
"When I was a boy." He shuffled a bit as she tried to catch his eyes in the darkness.  
"Why aren't you scared anymore?"  
"Because nothing scares me now."  
Lucky you, Elena thought. She was afraid of everything, like a little child.  
"That must be nice."  
"It is," he said, but his tone was carrying a dark edge to it now.  
She wished she could see his face.  
It was quiet for a moment. That type of comfortable silence you feel like you're commiting a crime breaking.  
But despite that, she did. "This is nice."  
"What is?" Now he did sound scared.  
"Talking to you. I know that you think I have some "fancy friends" back in Atlanta, but I really don't."  
"I figured you didn't," he said, yawning. "You wouldn't just leave if you did."  
She felt embarrased instantly. Like her lack of friends made her less of a person somehow. Well, in her eyes, it did.  
No one liked her. No one had a chance to.  
He sensed her inside war immediately. For some reason, he always did.  
And so he said the most perfect thing he ever could. "Except for me, of course. And with an awesome friend like me, you don't need anyone else, anyway."  
She smiled at him, as lightning iluminated his face.  
God, he was beautiful.  
What is a man like this doing here anyway?  
She wanted to ask him, but his sleepy "Goodnight, sweetie," stopped her.  
"Goodnight," she whispered softly and fell asleep, thinking that no one ever called her "sweetie".

* * *

**May 21st**

The air in the bar was dry and dusty, causing Elena a coughing fit. With a scratchy voice she asked the bartender for water and gulped the whole glass at once.  
She needed some fresh air.  
She stood up, took her bag and stepped outside. To her relief, her lungs calmed down enough so she could finally breath.  
She looked around. The scenery was the same one she saw almost everyday for the past month. A dirty parking lot, a few motorbikes, sometimes a car.  
That was her life, now.  
And she couldn't complain, either.  
"Are you okay?" Damon called to her from the doorway. He was in the bathroom when she left.  
She startled, but quickly recovered. "Yeah, fine." she aswered with her back to him.  
"Wanna hit the road? We're just a few miles from Savannah."  
And it took them only almost a whole month.  
She looked at him then, his eyes sparkling in the sun, his usually flawless hair ruffled from the wind. He was the definition of perfection.  
And it seemed as he didn't even know. The women were falling all over themselves to get closer to him, everywhere they were, but she's never seen him leave with any of them.  
Was he gay?  
That would be a shame.

She realized, she hasn't answered him yet. "Why not? Let's go."  
So they did.

He was right, they were close and it seemed the miles were getting shorter now, her excitement getting the better of her, when she couldn't sit still in her seat, always pointing to something or asking him question after question.  
But he didn't seem annoyed. Actually, he never seemed annoyed with her.  
They were passing an alley of trees when it happened again.  
She went quiet, her vision blurring. She saw the trees through the window but she couldn't tell if they were real or not anymore.  
She grabbed the door handle and closed her eyes all the while trying not to hyperventilate. Damon was saying something but she didn't hear a could see it now clear as a day.  
_The trees, the dark sky and his drunken breath on her face. He was getting closer, she knew. She wanted to escape. God, she needed to, but she learned a long time ago it was best to stand still, suffer quietly.  
He hit her then, the tree branch cutting her cheek. She winced, but didn't make a sound.  
But then he did it again and again and again and she couldn't supress her screams of terror anymore.  
Until it stopped._  
She opened her eyes, frightened. She looked around frantically, the hands holding her in her seat felt like a cage around her and she panicked. Panicked and trashed until they let go and the door handle she still held opened the door to her freedom.  
She got out of the car and finally took a deep breath when the ringing in her ears stopped. Tears were streaming down her face, so she closed her eyes again, trying hard to calm down.  
What the hell was wrong with her?  
She thought she was okay now... They told her she was!  
Fuck!

"Elena," Damon spoke softly behind her.  
She ignored him, still focused on convincing her heart to slow down a bit.  
They were past the alley now, the trees long gone, but the memory raw and clear in her mind.  
She whimpered, her hand on her cheek. There was no blood, but the pain hasn't ceased.  
Damon moved in front of her, and raised his arm, slowly lifting it to her face.  
She watched him intertwining their fingers on her cheek and prying it off her face. He examined it, looking for signs of injury and then sighed with relief when he found none.  
Her silent whimpers were mixing with his heavy breaths.

The next thing she knew, she was breathing in his comforting scent, his arms wrapped tightly around her, holding her to him.  
Her whole body relaxed, the stress and anguish leaving as quickly as they came.  
She held onto his shirt, grabbing at the material with her fingers, needing to get as close to him as physicaly possible.  
They stood there like that for some time, relieving in each other presence.  
She didn't remember if anyone ever took care of her this way before or not so she tried to imprint this moment into her memory, replace all the bad ones that were trying to resurface.  
"Are you okay?" he mumbled into her hair.  
She nodded, not yet sure if her voice wouldn't give up on her.

She let go a moment later, the unease settling back in its place.  
She avoided his stare while they walked back to the car.  
"Hey," she said, halting his steps "Can I drive, please?"  
"Wai-What?" he stammered. "You want to drive?"  
"I do. You know, please?" She didn't know how to explain to him why it was a good idea. But the thing was, she needed to focus her attention on the present now, and driving would keep her head straight.

Damon didn't see it that way. His lips were pressed in a straight line as he thought her request over.  
"I don't think you should drive right now, El" he said at last.  
Of course he doesn't. He wouldn't let her drive on a good day, much less now.  
"Okay" she whispered defeated. She moved past him and sat down in the passanger's seat. For some reason he followed and kneeled down beside her resting his hands on her legs. "Elena?" he said.  
She didn't spare him a glance. He would ask questions and answering them wasn't on her To-do list today.  
"C'mon, look at me." He cupped her face and gently turned it towards him, his expression soft when her gaze landed upon him.  
His right hand resumed its previous position while he stroked her cheek with the other one.  
She lost herself in the blue oceans of his eyes. They were calm and wild, rough but sweet and so unbelieveably sad. Sad like the eyes of a man who's lost himself in the unforgiving waters of life. She wanted to reach for him and wipe that sadness away, wanted to see him happy and free of everything that was cagining him in now. But she didn't know how.  
"Have you ever been to Barcelona?" he asked quietly taking her by surprise.  
"No."  
"Well, it's the most beautiful city in the world" he spoke "I used to live there when I was at Uni, y'know. They sent me to Spain as an exchange student. Best year of my life."  
"What's so great about it?"  
"Everything. Atmosphere, people, beaches and palm trees, food not so much" he smiled "but mostly people."  
"Why?"  
"Because they know how to have fun. They work hard but party harder."  
She laughed at his dreamy expression, it was cute.  
"There it is" he breathed out.  
"What?"  
"You smiled. That's good. I might even let you drive my baby now" he said smirking.  
"You might?"  
"I want to know your favourite city first."  
She wasn't sure if she had one. She's never been to Europe, or outside of US for that matter, so it was kind of hard to decide.  
"I don't have one" she said after a moment.  
"What about New York?"  
"No."  
"Okay, well" he stared at her excited, "I'll take you to Europe one day and we'll travel every old, amazing city there is, so you have plenty to choose from."  
That sounded nice. But hardly possible.  
She took a deep breath. "Will you let me drive now?"

He just nodded and took the keys out of his pocket, placing them into her palm.  
She wrapped her fingers around them and when he stood up to let her out, she kissed his cheek and got into the driver's seat for the very first time.

It was a great car, she had to give him that. Everything ran as smooth as Swiss clock and she could definitely see why he loved it so much.  
Damon, though, looked like someone killed his puppy. He was watching his feet, his brows furrowed.  
"I'm sorry," she told him.  
His eyes shot up to her, widened. "Don't you dare to apologize."  
"But, I probably freaked you out back there and now, to top it all off, I'm driving your car."  
His features softened, his eyes understanding. "It's okay, Eli."  
She was silent for a moment, wondering how is it possible that he's not asking any questions.  
"You don't want to know, what it was about?" she asked uncertain.  
"If you wanted me to know, you would already tell me."  
"Thank you."  
"You're welcome. But if you'll ever want to talk, I'm right here."  
He was saying all the right and pretty things, but she saw the curiosity burning in his eyes.  
She smiled at him, thankful.  
He smiled back and they spent the rest of the ride to Savannah in silence.

* * *

_AN: Hope you enjoyed, lovely people. _

_And drop a review if you want. :)_


	4. Chapter 4

_AN: Hello guys, how's it going? :)_

_For this chapter I strongly recommend you turn on my two favourite songs which are Gavin Mikhail's cover of 'I will follow you into the dark' and Brian Crain's 'Dream of flying'. They're pretty substantial to the story and quite enjoyable listen._

_Hope you enjoy._

_(And thank you for the reviews, they are much appreciated:)_

**May 30th**

She was completely and utterly in love.  
There were no words to describe the beauty of what she saw every morning when she opened her eyes.  
And then when she stepped outside and the amazing historical houses took her breath away once again.  
Elena was a goner. A goner for Savannah, that is.  
She's never seen a more beautiful place in her whole life.  
The city breathed history, feeding her inner history nerd that made her walk around the town all day, visiting every place on the Tourist Guide.  
She loved the food, the people and Jones street, but most of all, she just loved her room.  
It was simply the most magical place.  
She and Damon were living in one of the oldest houses in town. Somehow, they managed to get the best bedrooms, each one unique and equally georgeus.  
Damon often said that he liked her room better and that was the reason he spent there every minute they were inside. She had a suspicion that was just his excuse to annoy her.  
He didn't share her enthusiasm for all the "touristic bullshit" as he liked to call their tours, so when they got back, he fell on her bed and laid there until she kicked him out late at night.  
That time was coming soon, as it was already past midnight.  
"So," he said,stashing his mouth with popcorn. "What kind of hell have you planned for us tomorrow?"  
She looked at him in disgust. It seemed he just couldn't eat like a normal person, he had to make mess instead. She was sure she'll be sleeping on his food tonight. Again.  
"You know that you don't have to go with me, right?" Elena asked, turning the TV off.  
"Hey!" he yelled. "I was watching that!"  
"Time to sleep."  
"Oh, come on, grandma. You're not serious, are you?  
"Get out, D."  
"It's Damon. And I'm not leaving until you answer my question."  
She sighed, exasperated.  
"I haven't planned anything."  
"Bullshit," he scoffed.  
She threw a pillow at his face.  
"Okay, I was thinking about going to the beach, maybe?"  
"The beach?"  
"Yup."  
"Okay, " he said, surprising her. It wasn't an everyday occurence that he agreed with her without making a scene first.  
She grinned at him, making him laugh.  
"What's so funny?" she asked.  
"The way it's so easy to make you happy with the stupidest of things."  
He was probably right, she realized.  
But it's not a bad thing. Right?  
"I'm so exhausted, I can barely move." She heard him murmur.  
"Liar. You just want to sleep in my bed."  
"Would you let me?"  
"No."  
"Okay." He got up heavily and with a soft "goodnight, babe" left the room.

* * *

**May 31st**

"Why can you shorten my name, but I can't yours?" she yelled at him, getting out of the car.  
"Because it's like you're practically calling me a dick!" he yelled back, closing the door with more strenght than he intended. "Oh God, I'm sorry baby, daddy didn't mean to be so forceful," he apologized to it immediatly, caressing the back.  
"You are a freak," she told him, backing away slowly.  
He glared at her, but his eyes held nothing but amusement.  
They were bickering about their names the whole drive to the Tybee Island. Safe to say, it was pretty pointless. Damon wouldn't stop calling her whatever he liked, nor would he let her call him D. She also suggested 'Big D', but he didn't find it all that funny.  
She was losing this round, but you know what they say, you might lose the fight, but the war's still yours to rock.

Elena loved beaches. She used to spent her summers in Hamptons when she was a kid and those were the best moments of her childhood.  
The only good moments of her childhood.  
"Hey, Damon!" she called from her place a few feet ahead of him.  
"What?"  
"Race me to the pier!"  
His face fell at her words. "I can't."  
"Why not?" she asked, disappointed.  
"I hate running." He shrugged his shoulders.  
"How can you hate running? What the hell is wrong with you?"  
"Says the biggest Buzzkill I've ever met."  
Ouch. That hurt.  
"You are a jerk," she told him and took off on her own.

She was watching the dark blue waves when he caught up with her.  
"Sorry about that, babe. I didn't mean it," he said behind her, all remorseful-like, but she knew better.  
People didn't apologize just because they were sorry for hurting you or your feelings, they apologized to get out of trouble.  
It didn't matter, though. "It's okay."

They stayed quiet for a moment, both of them lost in their own thoughts.  
The ocean brought back a handful of memories, mostly good ones, but even those always came hand in hand with everything she'd rather forget.  
Like the things she saw in the flashback few days ago. She tried not to think about it again, but it was hard.  
Almost as hard as ignoring the looks Damon was sending her way when he thought she wasn't looking. She could't help but wonder if it changed the way he saw her.  
Probably not. She was the biggest Buzzkill he's ever met right from the start, anyway.  
It was her fault, though. They told her she was fine now, but she should've known better.

Despite all of that, she was happier than ever before.

"You know, I really feel like the dark times are over now," she broke the silence.  
"What dark times?" he asked, locking her in his intense gaze.  
She took a deep breath and looked away. They were the only people here.

She felt like...dancing.

Ignoring his question, she took his hand and said "dance with me."  
"But there's no music," he protested.  
"In that case, we'll have to sing." Smiling, she hummed the first verse of The Beatles' "Here Comes The Sun".  
He joined her a second later, his soft voice singing the chorus, making goosebumps appear on her skin.  
He turned her in his arms, but she stumbled on his feet and it sent them both flying to the ground.  
They landed in a pile of tangled limbs. It made them laugh so hard it hurt, so they just stayed there, sprawled on the hard wood, wiping the tears from their eyes.  
"You really _are_ something, El, aren't you?" he said, still trying to catch his breath.  
She grinned at him and patted his chest, laying her head on it.  
She listened to his heartbeat.  
"Your heart's beating so fast."  
"Yeah. You do that to me, girl."  
She was drawing patterns on his light grey shirt now, making him squirm.  
"Are you ticklish, Damon?" she asked innocently.  
"No?" he answered, but kept squirming under her touch.  
She laughed quietly.  
What a guy.

"Are you gay?" she questioned him, completely out of blue.  
"What?" he asked, his voice laced with shock.  
"Are you?"  
"No! Why would you think that?"  
"Well," she stammered nervously, "you obviously don't have a girlfriend, nor do you date anybody. And you haven't even made a move on me yet."  
That made him laugh. "You want me to make a move on you?"  
"Of course not!"  
To be honest, she never knew how to deal with men's attention. In fact, she tried to avoid it at all costs.  
He was enjoying himself right now immensely, it seemed. His chest was still vibrating under her ear.  
"Stop laughing."  
"Stop being funny."  
She hit him lightly. He caught her hand and covered it with his, intertwining their fingers.

They went quiet then, the only sounds provided by the ocean tide and their slow breaths.  
She looked at their hands. They fit so perfectly it was wierd.  
"Damon?" she whispered.  
There was no response, he already dozed off.  
Poor thing, their crazy dancing season must've worn him out.  
She squeezed his hand tighter, and fell asleep in his arms.

When they woke up, the sun was already setting, illuminating the world with its warm glow. The sky was bloody red now, with hints of yellow here and there. It was that time of the day that makes you feel...infinite.  
They were silently watching, thinking maybe if they stayed quiet enough, the night might make them disappear with the daylight, freeing them of their sorrows.  
It didn't happen.  
The sky was pitch dark when they gave up and drove back to Savannah, still silent.

They stopped for some food, taking it with them to her hotel room. It was their everyday routine now. It seemed like the world just shut down for a while when they were watching TV together or just talking, whispering their words into the dark.  
She loved those moments.  
"What did you mean by dark times?" he asked, his head propped on his elbow, facing her. "You know, back at the pier?"  
What exactly did she mean by that? She wasn't sure.  
"Just...life."  
"Life?"  
She closed her eyes, thinking about the words that would make him understand.  
"This world is a terrible place."  
"It's not so bad."  
She looked at him, pleading. "It is so bad. Actually no, it's worse. So much worse."  
"What happened to you, Elena?"  
That was a million dollar question.  
What happened to her?  
A thousand things happend. Things, she couldn't talk about, didn't want to.  
He knew she couldn't. She didn't say a word, just reached for his hand and held onto him like her life depended on it.  
It probably did.  
"Stay here tonight," she whispered.  
"Okay."

* * *

**June 14th**

"Where are we going?" Elena inquired, her hot breath mixing with chilly night air, creating haze of all shapes until it lazily disappeared.  
Damon didn't answer, just kept walking hastily a few feet ahead of her, like a man on a mission.  
She followed him hurriedly, her Converse-clad feet just a handful of steps behind his shadow-like silhouette, afraid to lose him in the crowd.  
She's never set foot in this part of Savannah and the thought of getting lost in the unknown town freaked her out.  
She still hasn't fully comprehended how they even got here in a first place. All she knew, all she could make sense of, were Damon's ashen features and pale face when she told him she bought a ticket back to Atlanta. She couldn't afford the expensive lifestyle they've been swimming in since their arrival to Savannah and it showed when the reality of her situation set back in its forgotten place, in the form of her bank statement. She was broke and possibly homeless, and she _hadto goback_.  
His reaction to the news wasn't really much of one, he just stared at her, wide eyed and rigid, until he abruptly stood up and told her to put a jacket on because they're going out. He wouldn't tell her where, of course, but they've been walking for a while and it was cold.  
And right now she's had enough of his cryptic behaviour.  
"Damon!" Elena yelled, infuriated, and reached for his arm from behind, yanking him towards her in a feeble attempt of turning around his solid form. "Stop for a second, would you?"  
He did. She could hear him taking a deep breath before facing her, his face a whirlwind of emotions, with desperation being the most outstanding one. "What?" he asked, the gleam in his eyes dull but fierce like a flame that's waiting to burst into a fire.  
"Where are we going?" Elena asked, shivering.  
He ignored her question but shrugged off his jacket, throwing it over her shoulders.  
His scent invaded her senses and she had no other option but breathe him in deep and trust him. Trust him because it was Damon, bacause it didn't really matter where he was taking her as long as he's next to her.  
At least that's what the last two weeks felt like.

"We are already here," he declared slowly and pointed to the building to his right.  
It was an old little house made of bricks squashed between two other bigger ones. There was a sign above the door that said 'Piano club' but the letters were hard to make out. Damon took her hand and dragged her to the entrance, where he opened the heavy door with a little difficulty.  
They stepped into a dimly lit hall, where few broken lights were casting shadows on the narrow corridor, making it seem like they were moving in tune with their bodies.  
"What is this place?" Elena whispered, unnerved.  
"Shh, listen," he hushed her in a low tone.  
Music was coming out of the doorframe at the end of the hallway, a quiet sound of piano making her fear dissolve instantly.  
They stepped inside a room, a miniature one in fact, with occasional tables scattered all around the stage. Stage with the most beautiful piece of shiny black grand piano she's ever seen. If it hadn't taken all of her attention, she would also notice a bar at the back of the club and the hard wood lining up the wall, making the whole place look somehow homy and inviting in its dark allure.  
A young woman, perhaps in her 30s, was playing the instrument smoothly, her fingers skimming over the keys easily as if it took no effort to create something as divine as the melody flowing through the room and right through Elena's soul.  
Damon guided her toward lonely table in a faraway corner hidden from the sight of other occupants.  
"Why did you take me here?" Elena asked, her eyes focused on the man so unusually quiet. He looked so lost and troubled, scanning the place with his piercing gaze until it landed on her.  
"If it's my last night with you," he said, "I want it to be unforgettable."  
"Why here?"  
"Why not?" he shrugged.  
"Damon..." she started, but he cut her off. "No, it's fine." He downed his drink. "Really."  
The music changed, the melancholy replaced by a sheer sound of unexpected glee and playfulness. It lifted the mood of everyone inside and Elena found herself smiling softly at her best friend, because that's what he undoubtly was.  
"Wanna dance?" Damon asked after a while, a little less gloomily than before.  
"But there's no one dancing."  
"Well, we'll be the first ones then." He grabbed her hands and pulled her to her feet, laughing at her stunned expression.

Everyone's attention was on them, as they made their way right in the middle of the made up dance floor, too wrapped up in each other to notice the curious stares people were sending their way.  
Elena rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, enjoying the way Damon's presence altered things that used to be set in stone, like the way she would run away from the spotlight any and every other time.  
But he was here.  
And he was her escape. Her way of saying 'fuck off' to the real world that was seemingly always after her.

World she didn't care about.  
She thought that nothing mattered anymore, and God knows for a very long time nothing did, but he showed her a brand new world.  
World where she wasn't alone anymore.  
However, reality had a way of sneaking in through the cracks.

"We dance awfuly lot," she remarked.  
"Well, you know what they say. When you can't have the real thing, you can at least...ouch!" Elena smacked his arm lightly, holding back laughter and trying to keep the scowl in its place. "Who says that, dummy?"  
"I do."  
She rolled her eyes and resumed her previous position, just as the music changed again. She knew the melody that was playing now, she was sure of it.  
A man who took the woman's place started to sing, and the words flowing all around them were so strangely familiar, so beautiful and not-from-this-world because surely no man could bring into existence something as magical as this song.  
_  
"Then I'll follow you into the dark"_  
Damon whispered softly into her ear making her shudder and close her eyes tightly.  
Oh God, how she didn't want to let him go. Not now, not when she had yet to learn so much about him and vice versa, because for the first time in her life, she wanted him to know her, she wanted to tell him her story and how he made it all better.  
How he made _her_ better everyday.  
She just stood there, instead. And prayed to God, God she never believed in, that this wasn't their last time. That she would see him again once she figures her life out a bit, standing by his Camaro, smiling the way he was now, unguarded and real, so tender like June's breeze after a burn on your cheek that heals. Heals the same way the smile on his face does to her inner wounds.  
"Don't go," he breathed out, their foreheads touching as his hand found its way to her hair, stroking it gently.  
"It's not forever," she tried to smile through the tears. "just for now."  
"But what if it is?" his voice broke in a way she already recognized but couldn't define.  
What if it is? It might be and they both knew that even though their reasons differed.  
"It won't. I promise you."  
He nodded and threaded their fingers again as the music faded, the closing performance applauded by the small crowd, most of which called it a night after the show ended.

"You know," Damon began, watching her cautiously, his elbows propped on their table. "I have enough money for both of us."  
"And?"  
"Let me help you."  
"How?" He helped her enough as it was, there was nothing else he could do for her.  
"Well," his gaze shifted to his hands. "I could pay for your room or we could move in together," he smirked at the thought. "Or I don't know, just go straight to New York, buy a boat and..."  
"Boat? I've always wanted to have a boat," Elena noted.  
"Really? Why?"  
"I wanted to be a sailor when I was little," she smiled. "I even tried to paint all of my clothes blue, but it didn't work out."  
"Why not?"  
"I did it with a pen. Dad's 100$ pen."  
Damon laughed at the mental image for good five minutes before he regained his composure. "Anyway, I wasn't kidding, babe. Don't go back to Atlanta."  
She sighed and took a sip of her drink, avoiding his stare. "Why are we even talking about this?" she questioned. "I thought we came here to have fun."  
"We will," he affirmed. "After you agree."  
"To what exactly?"  
"To the 'I will never ever leave you Damon' agreement."  
"It's official. You've gone completely mad," Elena stated.  
"Well..." he started to say when all the lightes went out, except for the one that flickered and flashed before, mantaining its earlier dull glow.  
Looking around, Elena realized that they were alone all of a sudden, the place was empty and too horror movie-like, and if it wasn't for Damon's reassuring hand on her knee, she would run for the exit by now.  
"Damon," she whispered aghasted, "what did you mean by unforgettable?"  
"Don't worry, I'm not planning on sacrificing your soul on the altar of blood and then eating your entrails."  
"Good to know," she said, more panicked with each passing second. She knew the triggers for her flashbacks by heart and if dark, abandoned and claustrophobic places weren't one of them, then nothing was.  
"Hey," Damon said, alarmed. "It's fine," he squeezed her hand and got up. "Let me just get the lights."  
He darted around the room franticaly until she was blinded by sharp glow. She immediately relaxed.  
He switched few of them off, leaving only the golden glimmering ones, creating kind of a romantic and comfortable atmosphere.  
"Better?" said a voice behind her.  
She nodded, trembling.  
Damon came into her view, his expression laced with concern. "You have to stop doing this, okay?" he announced quietly, and settled himself between her legs, his arms rested on her thighs, drawing circles with his thumbs. "These panic attacks and everything, it freaks me out."  
"I'm sorry."  
"No, don't apologize. Just promise me you'll get help when you come back home."  
"Already did. Didn't amount to much," she said, dejected.  
"Hmm," he hummed, thoughtful, "that's probably because you haven't yet had the Damon-therapy that makes all the doom and gloom turn happy." He sing-songed the last part, eliciting a laugh from her.  
"Well, Dr. Damon, what are you suggesting?" she asked, feeling much better already.

He didn't answer, but took her hand for the hundredth time that night and helped her stand up, moving them both to the grandiose piano in the middle of the stage.  
She watched in amazement as he brushed his fingers over the keys gently, lovingly, and played a few notes at first, stopping to flash her his cheeky grin which was followed by the opening tunes of a song she didn't know but fell in love with right away.  
He was good, great even, as he effortlessly swept her off her metaphorical feet with his remarkable talent she had no idea he possesed.

"Is this your therapy?" she asked him after the melody faded and he turned towards her. "Music?"  
"Well, you know, the thing with music is..." he said. "It could punch you in the face but you'd still feel no pain. Quite the opposite, actually. It takes it away."  
That made sense. She's just never looked at it that way.  
"Who taught you to play?" she asked him, curious.  
He was silent for a long moment until he quietly spoke. "Mom did."  
"She must be really proud of you."  
"Why?"  
She was taken aback by his question. Why would he even ask that? "Because you're amazing," she stated the obvious.  
"You don't even know me that well."  
They were no longer talking about his artistic skills, but were they ever in the first place?  
"I know enough."  
"No, and that's the problem."  
She didn't know they had a problem. "What are you talking about?"  
He took a deep breath. "There's so much I want to tell you."  
"About what?"  
"About me, my life and my past and everything I've been through, but if you'll leave tomorrow I'll never have a chance to."  
His words mirrored her thoughts and it was strangely comforting.  
"I feel the same way," she told him.

"Then don't leave me."

She didn't know how to react to his sincere plea. It was the very first time that someone asked for her or demanded her company _justbecause_ and she felt like she was suffocating, but at the same time could finally breathe after what felt like eternity. It was all very confusing and new.

She didn't respond so he played again. Played a song that took her breath away completely, because she recognized the melody, a mixture of desperation and acceptance of the inevitable and everything else she felt and clutched so close to her heart, except for the one thing she's always lacked in everything she did.

It was hope. Hope for a better tomorrow, better days and life and when they eyes met he became just that. Her very own sword to slay the darkness with, fight the demons that wouldn't leave, but couldn't stay while next to him and all he was when he showed her the light.  
And in that moment, sitting on some old piano stool locked in the gaze of a man that changed everything, she realized that she could have it all.  
The life she reached for when she left New York but never fully grasped? It was hers for taking.  
All of her ruined plans and slaughtered dreams? They could be born again,  
if she just gave this life another go.  
And she promised herself that she would.  
All because of him.

She launched herself at him, wrapping him up in her arms with all the strenght she could muster, because he was all she had and it was enough and so much more. And she knew was that she couldn't leave him now.

"Where do I sign?" she asked, her voice muffled by his shirt.  
"Sign what?"  
"The uh, 'I will never ever leave you Damon' agreement?"  
"What?" he asked in disbelief.  
"You got yourself a deal," she smiled.  
"The best deal of my life."  
"We'll see about that."


	5. Chapter 5

**June 15th**

"Watch this."  
Elena threw her head back in laughter.  
"And this!"  
By that point, she felt like she would choke.  
"You are the worst dancer ever!" she shouted at him.

She was sitting at the hood of Damon's Camaro, watching him leap like deformed bird in front of the car. And he called it dancing, too!  
It was literally the funniest thing she'd ever seen, which was hard to do because Damon did like to make himself look like an idiot every once in a while.  
Like that time he spent a whole hour lecturing her about the perks of heating blankets when your backside hurts...  
Anyway, he really did it this time.

"You gotta admit, I'm amazing." He slumped down next to her.  
"What was that?" she asked him, grinning.  
"That was what I like to call," he pressed her down with his own body. "'The hawk.'"  
She giggled. "More like a retarded bird."  
"Oh, come on." He tickled her sides, makig her squirm underneath his form.

"I hate you," she grumbled after he stopped and flashed her one of his typical smirks.  
"Really?" He shifted so that his weight was resting entirely on her.  
"Even now?"  
"God," she groaned. "You're suffocating me."  
She pushed his shoulders and he rolled onto his back.  
Strange thing, she kinda missed him.  
Damn it, that's not good. She can't think about him that way. Ever.

"Look at that," he pointed at the setting sun.  
She followed his line of sight and took a deep breath, mesmerized. The sky turned golden bright, calmingly intense and it was similiar to the sunset they watched at the beach, but at the same time so different.  
Tonight, the world seemed so small, not vast and endless like before.  
She felt like they were the only people on Earth, just the two of them, and while the thought might have been undoubtedly sad to some, it was nothing short of reassuring to her.  
The blinding colors, never-ending highway, plain nothing to see for miles, and 'Georgia on my mind' playing from the old stereo in Damon's car, all added up to the one thought that turned into a feeling and now quiet words.  
"I think," she said, "this is probably the best thing that's ever happened to me."

He didn't react at first, but she heard him murmur a few moments later, "I'm just glad you stayed."  
"Someone has to tell you when you're being an idiot," she whispered back.  
His laughter filled the night, warming her up from the inside.

They laid there for quite some time, watching the night turn darker and colder. She'd like to remember this moment forever, everything about it, all the little details, like the way it was so easy to find Damon's hand and hold onto it tight, listen to him breathing and feeling the warmth of his body next to hers. She's never been closer to anyone in her whole life, figuratively speaking.  
"Where are we going, El?" he broke the silence wearily.  
"New York?" she replied, a bit uncertain. At least that was the plan they agreed upon last night after they left 'Piano Club'.  
"No, I mean..." He took a deep breath, "with our lives, you know?"

She did. She understood his question, but not what brought this on. Why was he being so 'deep' all of a sudden?  
She didn't have an answer for him. "I don't know."  
"Do you ever get scared of the future?" he inquired. "Like maybe, you don't even have one?"  
What's happening right now? They didn't do conversations like this. She didn't want to think about any of this.  
"I did some terrible things, Elena."

There it was. He told her yesterday that he wants to tell her his story but she didn't think it would come so soon.  
She wanted to know, yes, but she wasn't sure if she was ready yet. The tricky thing about any kind of relationship is, that it's a give-and-take kind of situation. You share what you have and who you are, which was hard for her to do.  
It was easier for him, it seemed.

She didn't say a word as he talked.

"I used to be such a dick. I mean, all my life I relied on my parents to make things work for me. Stuff like getting me through high school and then university and all the shit I'd done. And they always did. And all I've done was disappoint them." He turned to face her. "I dropped out of uni with only two semesters to go, packed my bags and left everything behind." His eyes never shone so bright. She was so lost in him it was getting out of hand.  
"Why would you do that?" she asked when he didn't continue.

He's never looked so lost before. All she wanted to do was wrap him up in that heating blanket of his and hide him from the world.  
"I needed to search for something."  
"Did you find it?"  
"I'm not sure." Suddenly his face lit up. "But I did find you."  
"You didn't find me. You just stumbled upon me in a stinky bar." She scrunched her nose.  
"That was meant to be romantic."  
"Eww, why romantic?"  
"Oh come on, can't a guy feel romatic for a sec? That's sexist."  
"You're such a weirdo."

He bit his lip with that dangerous look on his face and pulled her into him. "And now I wanna cuddle."  
"Let go of me," she chuckled and tried to wiggle her way out of his grasp but it was no good. "You need to find a girlfriend, Big D."  
He groaned into her shoulder. "It's Damon, for heaven's sake. And why would I want a girlfriend when I have you?"  
"Well..."  
"Don't answer that, please. It's a rethorical question."

She sighed and relaxed into his embrace. It wasn't all that bad, she decided. It could be so much worse. She was a little freaked out after his "terrible things" comment, but all he did was what every college student dreams of doing on a daily basis.  
She did feel like he left out some important detail though. Something about his story didn't sit well with her but she didn't have the energy to dwell on it right now.  
Instead, she stroked the back of his hand, the one she was still holding and let go of every single thought she might have had. It was refreshing not to think for once.

Until he spoke once again.  
"I'm lost, Elena," his voice was muffled and she wasn't sure she heard him well.  
"I used to think I knew exactly who I was, but look at me now," he continued. "What if I never find it? What do I do then?"  
Why is he not making any sense?

"But what are you looking for?"  
Silence. The air thickened between them, the melody of his voice chilled her to the bone.

"Something to live for."

He looked up to her, searching her eyes for something she couldn't give him yet.  
It didn't stop her from wanting to kiss him though, and it took every ounce of her willpower not to do so.  
Funny, how things can change so quickly.

He took a deep breath.  
"You never told me your last name." he murmured with his eyes closed.  
He was right. And he never told her his either. She would bet it was something funny like Koppanzeler or Poptart, and that's why he never shared that specific piece of information.  
"I don't wanna tell you my last name," she decided. "It's like world would change if I did, y'know?"  
"Yeah. It can be like our thing. Like 'Sir, we need your friend's full name so the family can come to identify the dead body'," he imitated in a deep voice. "And I'd be like 'No, doctor, I'm sorry we never exchaged our last names'."  
"That's not funny." But she smiled. "I've said it before and I'll say it again, you are the weirdest guy I've ever met."  
"You said I'm amazing last night. You can't take that back."  
Her expression turned thoughtful for a moment. "You're like a puppy," she stated at last. "One can simply not hate a puppy."  
"Did you just say I'm an animal? Because I can definitely show you an animal, sweetheart, I just don't think the hood of this car could take it."  
No, that really shouldn't have turned her on.  
Damn, that idiot and his charmingly non-charming stupid ramblings.  
"You're just thinking about it right now, aren't you?" She could feel him smirking.  
"Get off of me, asshole." She pushed him off of her and jumped down on her feet.  
Distance, she mused, is a girl's best friend.  
"I'm gonna get cold now," he pouted. "Come back."  
"No. And we should get going if we want to get to New York sometime this year."  
She checked the time on her phone and shuddered while scrolling through her missed calls list. This was getting ridiculous. But she'll have to pick it up one day. Fortunately, not tonight.

"What time is it?" Damon asked as he slid down the blue metal.  
"Eight thirty."  
"Time to get dirty," he sing-songed to mock her.  
"I'm not sleeping with you anytime this century. End of story."  
"You don't have to be so mean about it."  
"You're the worst."  
"You're beautiful."  
"Get in the car, Damon."  
"As you wish, darling."

"For what it's worth, I have no idea what I'm doing with my life either, but you probably figured that out already." She sighed and rested her head against the window. The car sped down the highway, its front lights illuminating the landscape, inch by inch, in a flood of fast-changing images.  
It's all a mess, she thought. It all seemed surreal.  
"At least we're together," he chuckled.

How does he do that? How does he go from gloomy and sentimental to peacefuly content in a two seconds flat?  
Personality disorder, perhaps?  
Yeah, that would explain a lot.

She closed her eyes and let the sleep wash over her in all-too familiar waves, thinking. It doesn't matter where they're going.  
It doesn't matter at all.

* * *

**Present Day **

**May 1st**

Elena was standing at the airport, reminiscing on every moment she'd done the same thing, every time she needed to run away.

She wasn't meant to leave Barcelona, though. She was supposed to stay here for a while or at least until Matt comes back home. She promised him that much.

She didn't feel like waiting around anymore. With Amy gone, the city turned too grey, the empty apartment too damn lonely and Matt still had a few months to go.  
He was currently abroad, serving his country and being the hero he definitely was. People often asked her what it's like to be married to a soldier when they've been apart for far longer than they've been together. She always replied the same way, 'it's hard, but I'm so proud', plus a forced smile.  
She was proud of him, that much was true, but was it really hard? Sometimes she thought it was far harder to be with him.

Why would she do this to herself? Why would she marry a man she didn't love?  
The thing was, she did love him. Like a best friend, probably but still. It wasn't that all-consuming, can't keep my hands off you kind of love. It was much duller and weaker.  
But she didn't want to break his heart. However, that's exactly what she's been doing all along, even if he didn't know about it yet.  
It would all come back to bite her in the ass, she knew. And once the dam breaks, it's all gonna be one big mess.

She stared at the one-way ticket in her hand. It was slightly trembling, the words blurring and making her head spin.  
What the hell was she doing? She can't go back to New York. She hasn't been home in years and she can't go now.  
Damnit.  
This is gonna be a disaster.  
But something told her she has to go. Something deep within her, the voice that sounded a lot like Damon's and made all the decisions for her.  
What would he say if he was here? She often wondered and acted on the answer.  
He wouldn't be scared, she'd told herself all the time.  
He would suck it up and go on.

What would he say now?  
Take the other road, El. Be brave.

She grabbed her bags and with a newfound courage, boarded the plane.

* * *

_AN: New chapter, you guys. Hope you enjoyed. _

_And please drop a review, it would make my day:)_


	6. Chapter 6

_AN: Enjoy and review! :)_

**7 Years Ago**

* * *

**June 16th**

"Elena."  
A pair of warm hands shook her form lightly, making her head fall to one side and bump into the window.  
"Ouch," she moaned, half asleep, and winced as the cool glass connected with her temple again.  
"Elena. Wake up." The voice penetrating the hazy cobwebs of her dreamland was familiar enough so that it didn't surprise her in the slightest when she blinked to see Damon's face just inches from hers.  
"What's going on?" she asked. "Why did you do that?"  
"Did what?" His gaze was momentarily confused.  
"Hit my head," she hinted, "Into the window?"  
His eyebrows furrowed in concern. "I'm sorry." He reached out to stroke her hair softly. "Did I hurt you?"  
"Nah, it's fine. Why did you wake me up?"  
She hasn't realized he was leaning over her until he sat back in his seat with a broad smile. "We're going shopping!"

Alright, now she would bet he was only messing with her. There was no way for a guy like him to say those words with _that_ grin on his face.  
Her expression must have mirrored her thoughts because he followed  
his announcement with a quick explanation. "We're having dinner tonight. At a fancy place, might I add, and given our poor choice of clothes... I mean, I doubt there's anything quite fancy enough in those bags of yours... Or mine, for that matter." he quickly added after the look she shot him."Which is why we need to go shopping!"  
"What?" Her mind was still in the same state of sleepy bewilderment as before her spoke. His words made no sense whatsoever, because first, they were miles away from any city big enough for a 'fancy dinner', and second, what the hell was he even talking about? She asked him just that.  
He rolled his eyes at her. "I booked a table yesterday. Before we left Savannah. I know this great restaurant in Charlestone and so I thought," he paused to emphise his next idea, "that we could go on a date."  
"A date?"  
"Absolutely."  
He was so sure of himself, she noticed. That didn't come off as a shock, though. He was used to getting his way, especially with the ladies. Not many girls were able to resist his charm and even if that wasn't enough, his money and status changed their minds rather quickly.  
She wondered if he ever got a 'no' or if she's going to be the first person to tell him off.  
"I'm not going on a date with you, Damon. And how on earth are we gonna get to Charlestone, anyway?"  
"We are already here," he dismissed her question. "And you so are."  
"What am I?"  
"You are going on a date with me."

Again with his unflinchable confidence. "No way."  
"Do we have to do everything the hard way?  
"A date? Really, Damon?"

He sighed and shifted his attention onto a building across the road. Taking in notice their surroundings now, Elena figured they definitely were in Charlestone. Crumped in a parking spot barely big enough for a car, she could see the mall overlooking the street like a giantic hive, buzzing with people and life.  
She inwardly shuddered. People, her inner voice cried, and real life. What a waste of their time. They could be safely ducked away from the unforgiving eyes of reality in their own world, but no, Damon had to drag her out and throw her to the sharks.  
Figuratively speaking, of course.  
Or maybe not. Depending on his mood and the possibility of a shark tank nearby.

He turned back on her. "Why don't you wanna go out with me?"  
"I do want to go out with you," she admitted. "It's just that, I don't do dates. I don't really like restaurants. Or fancy things. Or public places. Or..."  
"Okay, I understand. You don't like me."  
That is so not true, she wanted to scream, but bit her tongue instead. He didn't need to know that yet. Or ever.  
However, under the layers of firm and steady beliefs about the unimportance of her feelings, she wanted to give him something that would, in her mind at least, prove that she did care. So, after a while of silence filled with prolonged tension and under Damon's puppy dog gaze, with a heavy sigh, she gave in.  
"I'll go for dinner with you. But let's not call it a date, okay?"  
His face fell a little at her words but he jumped on the opportunity of a compromise fast enough. "Deal."

* * *

"Keep going, Damon."  
"I think I'm close."  
"Me too. Faster."  
"Doing my best." He groaned.  
"You're gonna be the death of me, you know."

She turned to look at him from across the parking lot. He was still wrestling with the thousand bags full of clothes she'd thrown at him during their 'girls' time out' as Damon called their shopping season at lunch, happily munching at his Greek salad.  
Yup, she's never ever going to be able to take him seriously after that.

"Jesus, what's taking you so long?" she called at him impatiently, checking the time in front of their car. The reservation was for nine o'clock, he informed her earlier, which meant that they should've been already getting ready...like twenty minutes ago.  
"I can't see!" he shouted and stumbled on the sidewalk.  
She would've definitely been amused by the little show he was pulling if she wasn't so annoyed.  
She really wanted to go for this dinner with him tonight. And it wasn't only because it seemed to be that kind of night when all your wishes come true and the air smells like dreams and you see shooting stars when you look up to the sky -  
No, the reason was free food. Definitely the free food and not a non-date with a beautiful man or that gorgeous dress she bought with the last money she had, which meant she was officially a homeless person but couldn't find it in her to care about any of that now. No, that couldn't be it.  
"Open the trunk," Damon barked out.  
She did as she was told and watched as he unceremoniously tossed all of them inside at once.  
"God, woman, did you buy out the whole centre?"  
"No?"  
"Well, it certainly felt like it."  
She patted his arm and shrugged. "A little workout never killed anyone."  
"Actually, that's not true." he retorted. "There's been many cases of sudden death caused by workin' out."  
"Yeah?"  
"I don't know. But I would bet there were."  
She chuckled as he rambled on about the side effects of training while her mind wandered off to forbidden places as the wind ruffled up his hair, making her fingers itch to put it back in its place.  
It wasn't fair for one man to be this attractive, okay? It simply wasn't.

Her phone sprang to life just as he finished his rant. She let it go to voice mail again without a glance at the screen.  
"You won't pick it up?" he asked.  
"No."  
"Why not?"  
She didn't answer, but with a sigh chose to fetch the car keys from his jeans pocket instead, which in turn made him flinch away from her like she electrocuted him or something.  
"Let me get this..." He took them out himself and after a moment of hesitation rounded the vehicle to his seat. "You coming?"  
She nodded, though he couldn't see her. She felt a bit awkward standing there as she wondered if she crossed some sort of a line or...? It wasn't like they never touched before and when they did he never jumped a mile away from her.

Whatever it was, it didn't matter. She had more important things to think about. Like the date. And the fact that they had nowhere to get ready because they haven't booked a room anywhere. Well, she couldn't afford a room anyway.  
"Damon," she climbed into the passenger seat. "Are we gonna get changed in the car? Because if that's the case, we should do it at some place a little bit more, you know, private."  
"No, of course not. We're staying at a hotel. I booked a room last night."  
"But-" she tried to protest, but he cut her off.  
"Don't worry, it's just one room. Good news, you don't have to pay for it. Even better news, we're sleeping together."  
"That's a good news for you, huh?"  
The engine roared to life. "The very best."

* * *

"You ready?" Damon asked as he knocked at the bathroom door just as she finished putting on her mascara.  
She was almost ready. "Just a minute."  
"Okay." She heard his steps quickly disappear down the hall.

There, she did the last touches to her make-up and looked herself over in the mirror for the final time. She looked good, she had to give herself that, great even. Well, at least by her standards anyway.  
Her hair fell in a light curls around her face thanks to the curling iron she borrowed from the girl next door and although she was never big on make up and used it only occasionaly, it did emphasise her features nicely.  
And that dress, God, she loved that dress so much she never wanted to take it off. Ever.

Well, game on, she winked at her reflection in the mirror and then felt stupid for doing so instantly. No one does those things, she mentally chided herself, except for Damon, maybe.

She turned off the lights at last and stepped out of the bathroom just as the wave of irrational anxiety made her knees wobble. What if she doesn't look good enough? And what if Damon won't like the dress and decides that they aren't going anywhere? These and many other questions were making her head spin as she tried to put on her heels.  
She told herself over and over that it was okay to feel nervous but she didn't just feel nervous - she was panicking.  
Thing like that happened to her sometimes; she would get overwhelmed with specific emotion, like fear for example, and for a while it would knock her off her feet.

But she had to put it together tonight. If not for her own sake, she had to do it for Damon. She didn't want to let him down.

Back on her feet, she straightened up a bit, faking the confidence she didn't possess at all and followed the stream of light coming from the common room.  
Damon was standing in the middle, casually leaning on the couch behind him and checking his phone. He looked breathtaking. She's never seen him a suit before and damn if it didn't make him look irresistible. She forgot all about her troubles when the only thing she was still able to think clearly about was how she'd like to tear that suit off of him with her teeth.

Then he noticed her standing in the doorway.  
His mouth was wide open as his heated gaze slowly slid down her body. She looked away shyly as he approached her, stopping only inches from her. "You look," he began, but caught her chin between his fingers first to turn her face toward him, locking her up with his eyes. "Absolutely beautiful."

"Thank you," she whispered. She also wanted to tell him how dashing he looked himself but the words got stuck on their way out.  
"Shall we?" he offered her his arm witha ghost of a smile.  
She nodded and laced their hands together, all of a sudden way too aware of the closeness of his body and his intoxicating scent that flooded her senses like a tsunami mixed with her own desire.  
Tonight's different, she realized. Something big's about to happen.

* * *

The avenue looked like the one you often see in movies. A crowd of people was standing outside the restaurant, waiting in line for a table while the air smelt of formality and maturity of businessmen in fancy suits and adults that actually had their life together - it didn't really feel like a place for the two of them, but perhaps that was exactly the kind of thing Damon was used to. Elena wondered if there'd be a red carpet pulled out from somewhere and a celebrity getting out of a limo with every person taking out a camera to paparazzi the crap out of them.  
If she wasn't so uncomfortable, she might've felt like a celebrity herself.

"Elena, stop looking like a deer caught in the headlights, okay?" Damon chuckled.  
"I'm sorry," she apologized. "It's just that I never imagined having dinner in a place like this." And with a guy like you, she added mentally.  
"Why not?" He looked so calm and collected, chewing on his food. If it wasn't for the constant tapping of his foot under the table, she would have never noticed that he was, for some reason, nervous too.  
"You see, unlike you, I'm not made of money. Neither was my family."  
"Was?"

She didn't follow up on his opening. She had no desire to talk about her family tonight. It was, in fact, a story she's never told before. And while she often thought about sharing her secrets with him, she still wasn't quite ready to take that step.

"There is something I wanted to talk to you about," Damon admitted.  
"But now I'm not so sure if you're gonna answer any of my questions."

"You can give it a shot," she smiled.  
"And ruin our dinner? Nah, I think I'll pass."  
"Is it that bad?"  
"That's the thing. I don't know."

She took her time to study him properly for the first time since they arrived. There was something just beneath the calm exterior he tried to sell. Something was bothering him and it seemed it had everything to do with her.  
"Just spit it out, Damon."

"Are you running from someone?"

He caught her off guard. "Um, wha-why would you think that?" she stammered.  
"Your phone keeps ringing. You keep ignoring it. And while I know it was none of my business I checked your phone calls last night and it's the same name every time. And then there are your panic attacks –"  
"You did what?" she abruptly interrupted his speech. She couldn't believe what he just said.  
"I'm sorry, okay?"

She would probably be long gone by now if she wasn't still in shock. Invading her personal space, fine, she could live with that, but her privacy? That was so not cool.

"You are an asshole," she snapped.  
"I think we kind of established that fact already, don't you? Now back to my question, please."  
"You were right. It's none of your business."

The waiter cut it just in time before they jumped at each other's throats.  
Elena was setting Damon on fire with her eyes the whole time he was re-filling their wine glasses, not at all satisfied with the lack of guilt or at least shame in his face.

How can one man be so nosy, she wondered.  
Next time, she'll find him trying on her bras. Okay, that mental image was kind of amusing.  
She held back her laughter as his brows furrowed while he tried to figure her out. He often did that and it looked like he hasn't made much progress yet.  
"You're gonna fry your brain thinking so hard," she warned him.

It was the most difficult task in the world, staying mad at him. He would piss her off all the time but it lasted for absolute of four seconds and then he would say or do something and she would forget all about the reasons why she tried to ignore him in the first place. Until he'd do it again.

"I'm worried about you." There was honesty in his declaration that made her heart skip a beat or two before it restored again.  
He was not supposed to be saying those things, she knew. Not when he was so right in his assumptions and it wasn't fair from her to drag him into the mess that was her life.  
He was a good guy, he desereved better than that.

"You shouldn't be."  
"I knew you would say that."  
"How?"  
"Because it's that kind of thing people say when they have never heard the words before." He paused. "But I'm gonna make sure you get used to hearing it all the time. Alongside the good ol' 'I care about you damn lot' and 'you're amazing'."  
"You shouldn't care about me either," she shook her head sadly.  
"That's bullshit and you know it as well as I do."  
"It's complicated."  
"Then simplify it for me."  
"The problem is –" but she didn't really know what the problem was. There were too many of them to name just one. "Scratch that. This conversation's ridiculous."  
"I beg to differ."  
"Alright," she leaned toward him. "Listen, Sherlock. There's no one after me okay?" Not in the literal sense of word, at least. "And if you go through my stuff one more time, I'm spilling my coffee right over every seat of your beloved Camaro. Are we clear?"  
"Crystal."  
"Good."

The rest of the night went off without a hitch. Until it didn't, of course. They were finishing their desserts when her phone rang again and Damon sent her a pointed, almost suspicious look as she pressed ignore.  
"Stop looking at me like that."  
"Who's Vicky?"  
She looked up at him with her fork halfway to her mouth. "Stop it."  
"Talk to me."  
"Nope."  
"Why can't you just trust me?"

How can she explain to him that this had nothing to do with trust? Or that he was the only person in her life she even considered trusting?  
"Why the hell would I?" That wasn't exactly what she wanted to say and seeing the hurt look on his face almost made her take it back, but if it will make him leave her alone, then it's a win, right?  
"We are friends."  
"And friends automaticaly trust each other?"  
"Yes. That's what it's all about, but how would you know?" he murmured.  
"Right, how would I know?" She was thinking, aloud. "Because it's completely okay for a stranger you know practically nothing about, except for what he's told you, to violate your privacy and expect you to be okay with it because you are 'friends'," she drew the air quotes. "And then try to pry information out of you, using the things you've already told them against you." She sarcastically nodded."Yes. That's definitely what friends do."  
"Information you've already given me?" he scoffed. "You've told me nothing. Yes, you do drop these hints you never elaborate on and then occasionally freak out which freaks me out as well and I'm sorry if it's so fucking inexcusable to want to know more." He kept raising his voice until he stopped talking and took a deep breath instead. He ran his hands through his hair. "I'm just tired of trying to figure you out. I don't know if anyone told you this before but the whole 'mysterious act' gets old rather quickly." He looked in her eyes. "And I can't help you, if you won't tell me what's wrong."  
Elena felt exhausted all of a sudden. "I don't want you to help me."  
"Then what do you want?" he pressed on. "What do you want from _me_?"

Again with his million dollar questions. Just a few seconds ago, she would swear he was nothing but a tool for her; someone to hide behind when the monsters in her closet took a leap at her, someone to escape the world with. Now, she wasn't so sure.  
She kept repeating to herself and to him that they didn't know each other, that she didn't know him. And that fact was something to help her sleep at night, because as long as she'll keep her distance, he can't get close. Close enough to see her, to learn about her and then decide it wasn't worth it. That she wasn't worth it.

And it was all a lie. She did know him. She knew how he took his coffee and the list of movies he liked because he could never choose a favourite.  
How he hated when she ate in his car because he's a neat freak. And all the little things he did, like always stealing her duvet in the middle of the night and keeping a charger nearby because she could never find hers.  
She also knew that he was the sweetest and most caring person she's ever met. Yes, he was crazy and at times infuriating, but he was the only person that genuinely cared about her well-being. And all he wanted in return was for her to let him in.  
What she really didn't know, was how to do that.  
And there was no sufficient answer for her to offer him. She wanted for things to never change between them, for everything to stay the same. But that wasn't possible and also not what he wanted to hear. "I don't know."

"I think we should go." he voiced her thoughts, too fed up with her bullshit for one night, and signaled the waiter serving the nearby table for their bill. Moments later, they were all set and ready to go. As they stepped outside, Elena prayed that the tension between them would decide to stay behind.

It didn't. Damon ignored every attempt at conversation she sent his way as they walked down the street.  
Just a few hours ago, she thought tonight would be special and although the moon still shone brightly over their heads, it refused to shine some light on what to do next and how to make things right.  
Elena wasn't completely sure why she said the things she did. She would never deliberately hurt him but she couldn't help but fight back.  
And in some twisted way, it was her way of showing him that she did care. All her life, the only expression of emotions she saw was violence and cruelty and while she was the least violent person ever and very well aware that it was absolutely wrong, she didn't know any better.  
Maybe he could teach her, she supposed, if she'd let him, anyway. It was all so new to her.  
And maybe he was simply better off without her.

"Are we walking to the hotel?" It wasn't that far but it was _waytoo far_ in the heels that she wore.  
He didn't respond.  
"Are you seriously still ignoring me?"  
"Are you still being a bitch?"  
"Only if you're still being an ass."

And they were right back where they started.  
"_I_ am being an ass?!" He turned around to face her.  
"Sorry to break it to you, but yes, you are."  
"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"Give it up, Damon. Please."  
"Give what up?"  
"All of it. The whole 'getting to know each other' thing! Taking me out on a date?" she sneered. "Going through my phone? Being worried about me? It's never gonna work. So, just give it up, for heaven's sake!" She was out of breath by the time she finished her rant. Her mind was blank as her mouth kept moving but she barely registered the words that poured out of it like a poison killing all they worked on together. "I don't care about any of it! I don't want to know you. In fact, I'm tired of having you constantly in my face. I thought we would get drunk, have a good time and get to New York. This," she gestured at the space between them. "Is not what I signed up for."

"Not what you signed up for, huh?" he slowly approached her.  
He stopped inches from her. She could almost feel the air between them cracking, charged up with all of their pent up frustration with one another and everything else that they refused to acknowledge all this time.  
"You don't care, you say," he continued, "well, guess what. I don't believe you."  
She felt his breath on her face as he carefully burned down to ashes every wall she had built around herself through all the years. She wanted to take a step back, get away from him, from what it meant, but couldn't move no matter how hard she tried. He held her in place without laying a finger on her, but that was just it. The power of him. The power he had over her.  
"Tell me, I'm wrong," he whispered as he leaned just a tiny bit closer.  
"I -" she had no idea what he was asking of her anymore. All she knew in that moment was the way the streetlight illuminated his face, the blue of his eyes and her brain screaming it was all wrong.  
But it felt so right.  
She also knew, better than anything else, that whatever he wanted to happen, couldn't.  
And that's why she said "You are wrong," when she did and that's why the words hurt so much.  
Like an arrow that hits the target with a soul-shattering blow, she saw everything they had fall apart.  
Because there was no going back after she made him believe that she didn't feel the same way.

"Is that how you feel?" he asked softly. She prayed he would yell.

"Yes, I do."

He wasn't even looking at her anymore. He took a step backwards and stood in a shadow so she couldn't see his face well and she was grateful for that. Just as he opened his mouth to speak her phone broke the silence first.  
Withouth thinking she did the one thing she dreaded the most.  
"Hello."  
"Elena?"

* * *

She found him sitting on the edge of the bed, hands clasped around a bottle of bourbon.  
"You left me there," she stated, her voice a mixture of barely-there accusation and weariness. She didn't have the strenght to be angry anymore.  
All he said was, "I know."  
He failed to look at her, and if he hasn't replied, she would've thought he didn't notice her standing in the middle of the darkened room. The curtains were closed, the only light illuminating his face was the one from the street lamps, seeping through the cracks. It reminded her of battered armor.

"Are you drunk?" she asked at last.  
He shook his head no but she wasn't too keen to believe him.  
What did it matter, though? If he wanted to get drunk, he could. It was his choice. Just like treating him like shit all night had been hers.  
"Elena?" He met her eyes with such a desperate intensity she was tempted to look away. "Yeah?"

"Was this a mistake?"

His voice was soft and barely audible but the weight of his question fell upon her like a hurricane.  
"Maybe you were right," he hesistated. "Maybe you should go back home."

She didn't move or make a sound. There was nothing left to say.  
She never realized how much she didn't want to hear those words from him till they were spoken aloud, creating a dam the size of the whole world between them, filled with wild and rough streams of cruel words and unspoken ones that hurt just that little bit more.  
She did this. They were her words. She wanted to push him away and she did. He was done. He wanted out.

But she wanted in. So much.

He was still watching her. She reciprocated his gaze without a flinch, too aware of the way he looked so ragged, like he just returned from a battle field and all flame's left his body, leaving him empty and miserable. She felt that way too.  
"Say something," he begged.

"What do you want me to say?"

He offered her the bottle. She took it hastily, taking a long gulp of the burning liquid. She shuddered as it slid down her throat.  
He patted the seat next to him and she sat down without a second thought.  
All she did now was insignificant, after all. It was over. And what comes after the end?  
Nothing, absolutely nothing.

"I'll take the bus to Atlanta tomorrow."  
He nodded. "Okay."


	7. Chapter 7

_Hello, you guys :) I hope you're all doing well. Thank you so much for reading and the reviews, it means a lot to me. And a huge thanks to my beta and best friend redlilijen. You rock. _

_So, here's the new chapter - hope you enjoy!_

* * *

**June 17th**

Tap.  
Three, two. Tap. One.  
4:00 a.m.  
The phone screen lit up as Elena's eyes glided over the numbers before she pressed the sneeze button for the third time that morning.  
It was 3 a.m. when she first woke up, grabbed her bags and left the hotel room.  
It was 3:30 when the raindrops began to fall, successfully drenching her small form to the bone.

Tap.  
She scooted over to the left side of the stairs she was sitting on. It didn't help, though. She was still stiff and uncomfortable and freezing her ass off.  
"Ugh."  
And that damned weather was pissing her off, big time. She was always fond of rain, especially late at night when the calming symphony created by the tiny waterdrops soothed her to sleep, but right now, it was anything but appeasing.  
Her cell's screen started to resemble a miniature lake so she wiped the water off with the back of her equaly wet sleeve and put it in her pocket.  
A car passed by her vision, blocking the hotel from her sight, the same hotel Damon was still asleep in, completely dead to the world. She was right in her assumptions last night, he did drink more than he probably should.  
They didn't talk much after he asked of her the thing she didn't want to think about at all.

So, after he passed out, Elena packed the few things she unpacked earlier, when they arrived, and laid down next to him.  
It wasn't the best idea she's ever had. In fact, it might count as one of the worst ones.  
The merciful sleep was avoiding her at all costs and all she could do the whole time she laid there was think about everthing that happened and everything that shouldn't have happened.  
But the reason she felt like she couldn't breathe was much simpler than that. Although there was enough space between her and Damon to fit at least other two people and also the whole universe in the metaphorical sense, she sensed him like he was right beside her.  
She ached to touch him, to hold his hand for a little while but she didn't own that privilage anymore.  
And it sucked.

That's why she was sitting just across the road from the beautiful hotel, right by the fountain and the sea, soaking wet with clattering teeth while the mornig sun hasn't yet had the time to brighten the darkness.

She did cheat, though. She couldn't help it.  
She was about to step out of the door when the need to say proper goodbye made her turn around and kiss his cheek for the final time.  
She prayed he wouldn't wake up, but a part of her hoped he would.

God, she missed him already.

It was the right choice. It had to be. The whole ordeal last night.  
She was no good to him and unconsciously she knew that all along. And the more she cared about him, the more prominent the thought became.  
And if you care about someone, you do what's best for them, right?

There must be some truth to that statement.

_You are like a disease, Elena._  
The voice in her head claimed. _A disease._  
She remembered the time he told her that. She remembered the tone of his voice, the cruelty and wicked joy he took from her suffering.

It was a day after she turned thirteen. Her birthday was a disaster, and when she woke up with tears still streaming down her face, she prayed the day ahead would bring her some peace. Just for a little while.  
But that would be a luxury she couldn't afford, wasn't it?

Tap.  
She closed her eyes now. She felt a shiver run down her spine as she thought back on the events of that god-awful day. It was then that all hope she had for something, anything better flew out the window.  
He was sitting at the kitchen table, his head hidden behind The New York Times. She was reluctant to step inside the room, but her hunger won the battle against her rationality. She swallowed her fear and wiped her sweaty, shaking hands into the oversized T-shirt she was wearing. She still had it in her closet back at home though it was all washed and the dark blue worn out a long time ago.  
"Good morning, Elena."  
She wondered how was it possible to sound so cold, cold enough to chill the air and the house that would never ever be her home.  
She mumbled back a response and hurried to the bread laying on the kitchen counter. She put in the toaster and waited with her back to him.  
He ignored her while she stood there and even as she opened the fridge to get some orange juice. A bad move, really.  
She didn't find what she was looking for but when she turned around he was standing there, his murderous stare like her worst nightmare coming to life.  
She knew what was coming next.

With breakfast in her hands she waited as he scrutinized her like a filthy trash he found at his front door.  
"What do you think you're doing?"  
She was paralyzed, couldn't move or breathe or come up with a sufficient answer.  
There was no such thing.  
"Answer me."  
His posture was seemingly calm, but she knew it was like the calm before the storm, but not just any storm, more like a hurricane.

"Answer me, you little piece of shit!"  
With one smooth move he sent the items in her hands falling to the floor.  
She flinched away from him, but he grabbed her wrist in a painful grasp.  
There goes my breakfast, she thought. It was a good toast.

"So you won't talk, huh?" He was back to his composed state and it scared her more than anything. She could take his crazy, but his psychopath, she couldn't deal with. And he was the worst... calculating.

The silence was cut short as they both heard the doorbell ring. He let go of her and gestured for her to stay in place while he gets the door.  
Elena contempleted it for a total of 5 seconds before she decided that it was smarter to just run. The voice carried to her from the hallway halted her steps as a smile broke across her face.  
Jeremy. Thank God.  
Her brother didn't live with them anymore, being seven years older than her, he fled the hell they were living in the first chance he got.  
That was three years ago when he got recruited into the army and began his training. And before he got married.  
Stupid, stupid man.

"Hey Elena," he greeted her with a big hug and a bright smile.  
She felt like a stone dropped from her heart. He wouldn't touch her with Jeremy there.  
"What's up, lil sis? How are you doing?"  
"Oh come on. You didn't come here to ask me how I was." Jeremy certainly had a bigger revelation that day.  
His smile was even broader than before when he sat down and shared the long-awaited news. "It's a girl!"  
She couldn't help but feel his happiness as he embraced her again. Vicky, Jeremy's wife, also known as Elena's second least favourite person on this planet, trapped her brother - in her mind, anyway - when she'd gotten pregnant nine months ago which in turn made Jer propose to her when he definitely shouldn't have.  
But in that moment, when her brother's face lit up with joy, she really was just plain happy for him.  
He deserved a family, even though it might not be the family she'd have wanted for him.

"Congratulations, son," the monster embodied spoke up and ruined her mood once again. For a second, she forgot he was even in the room with them.  
"Thank you." The grin fell from his face when he noticed pieces of the shattered plate on the floor. "What happened in here?"

"Nothing. Just Elena being her clumsy self," came the smooth lie.  
"Right, Elena?" he turned to her.

"Yeah." He was still looking at her pointedly so she added "I'll go clean it up now."

Jeremy had no idea what was going on in that house. While Jer still lived with them, _he_ was almost normal. But there was always something crazy about him, if you'd ask Elena.  
She never liked him, but after years of practically peaceful co-existing, she trusted him.  
All of that changed now, and Jeremy didn't have a clue. He couldn't have.

He told her what would happen to both of them if she so much as uttered a word.  
And she would always protect her brother, even if it was slowly killing her.  
Picking up the broken pieces, she had no idea that all of that would change, sooner than she expected.

But those awful moments weren't something she should have been thinking about now, Elena decided. Not with the phone call still so fresh in her mind. So, she locked them back in the box in the back of her mind where they belonged and took a deep breath, finally ready to confront her situation.  
The facts were, she didn't pay the bill for her apartment that month. She knew the owner was a bitch enough to throw her out the second she stepped foot inside the building because after all, it wasn't the first time it happened, and she was so kindly reminded before 'One more time, you're out. No questions asked'.  
She sighed.  
If she only wasn't so goddamn stupid.  
Shopping, Elena, really? The annoying voice in her head said.  
That was a dick move. A move that nicely emphised who she was most of the time.  
Reckless.  
She didn't think things through, which was a contradiction to all of the times she would spend hours obsessing over a simple decision like which book to read or what pencil to use. On one hand, she was the most indecisive and careful person on the planet but on other, she dived into things head-on, consenquences be damned. However, all of her carefulness was nothing but a result of the constant fear she felt.  
It was like that with lot of other things, too. The person she was supposed to be was surpassed by the person she had to be, and it messed her mind up.  
All in all, she was just so full of opposites it scared the crap out of her.  
And she'd also rather live in denial than admit to the truth. And the truth was, she shouldn't have agreed to Damon's idea last night and she knew it all along.

But the thing bothering her the most was the lies she fed him. Just a few days ago she was telling him how she felt the same - how she wanted to learn everything there was about him and vice versa - and it still stood. It was still the truth. Only now it got over-shadowed by the need to protect him from herself.  
He deserved someone better. Less fucked up.

Well, at least one good thing came out of it - she had a nice dress. And a pair of heels. And another few items Damon insisted on buying for her because "Who else would I spend my money on?"  
Anyone else, D. Anyone. She told him.  
But all he responded her with was "It's Damon, for God's sake, woman."

Thinking about him felt like someone gripped her insides and squeezed and squeezed till she couldn't breathe.  
She blinked away the tears in her eyes when the light from the street lamps dimmed and then faded completely.  
Sunrise. Nice. A new day, a new beggining and all of that crap filled her mind but only one thought stood out the most.

She wasn't ready.

She wasn't prepared to leave it all behind. To start the day knowing she was back to her old pathetic little life, all alone and miserable.

She promised him she'd never leave, but how relevant was that anymore if he was the one asking her to do it?  
Not relevant at all.

It stopped raining, Elena noticed because her cell screen stayed dry when she checked the time again.  
It was already past five and the sidewalks were slowly filling with people rushing to work.  
She should be going, too.  
And maybe she didn't need to go back to Atlanta. Maybe she could just take the bus and go... anywhere.  
It wasn't like she had any ties to the city she'd been living in for five years of her life.  
No friends, no job and no real belongings she would miss if they got thrown out.  
Her books, though. She had pretty impressive collection of first editions and an amazing library she loved with all of her heart.  
Books were the only things she actually spent her money on. It was no wonder, really. She didn't study English literature for nothing. She once wanted to be a teacher or a writer but with how shy she was and how socially anxious, the former wasn't really an option. Plus, the things above often seemed like a too big of an issue to overcome. She wanted to try, she really did. But she also wanted something more from life than a boring job.  
She seeked an adventure.  
Well, she'd certainly gotten one. Being with Damon was one hell of a ride.

Elena let out a deep sigh. Who was she kidding anymore?  
The only place she wanted to be in that moment - and every other moment - was right across the road, in a room that resembled a paradise with its out-of-this-world feel. Yes, it was the place next to Damon where she could feel the warmth of his body and enjoy the sweet pleasureable tingles the touch of his hand in hers sent up her arm while she stroked his knuckles.

They slept like that in Savannah. She would wake up snuggled up to his side or with his solid form pressed up against her.  
It wasn't something they discussed afterwards.  
In her mind, she only thought about those moments as the 'stolen' ones.  
When people used the term 'stolen' before, she never truly understood what it meant. Now, she got it. It felt like they didn't belong to her. Like it was a crime to hold his hand when he wasn't hers and she refused to acknowledge that he, in fact, wanted to be just that.  
Why, she had no idea.

The sun was swimming up the sky slowly, as if it was enjoying the way the world brightened and glowed all around it when its warm rays awoken the sleeping town.  
Elena moved over to the pier and watched the morning show with a wide eyes. The beauty of it all made her smile with that child-like grin Damon adored the most, judging by the way he never failed to comment how beautiful she looked when she smiled like that.

She shuddered. Her clothes were still sticking to her skin, wet and cold when the morning breeze blew around her.  
Another great idea she didn't think through.

"Elena!"  
Her eyes widened again, this time startled by the sound of Damon's voice she didn't expect to hear anytime soon.  
She cringed as his footsteps quickly appeared behind her.  
"What are you doing here?" he demanded.  
She faced him with the same painful indifference she had last night. It was obvious she was sure that whatever she did still didn't matter.

"Nothing."

His brows furrowed and as he looked at her - more like glared - with determination in his eyes.  
He was back to being mad, she guessed. Too bad she didn't want to fight anymore.  
"I woke up and you were gone."  
"You told me to leave."

"Not like that."  
"Then how?"

He took his time to answer and with his gaze averted, she could appreciate the way he looked in the black T-shirt he was wearing, the one she loved the most because there was nothing hotter than Damon in black and that was a fact.

"Fuck." It wasn't like him to swear but here he was. Damn, Elena thought, the things she drove him to.  
And _fuck_, if the dangerous expression on his face didn't make him look hot as hell. It also made her take a step back.  
She wasn't exactly scared of him - it was Damon after all - but she didn't doubt for a second he could be pretty mean and hurtful when he wanted to.  
"If you think I'm gonna let you off the hook this easily then you have another thing coming."  
Wait... so he didn't want her to go? To say she was confused would be an understatement.  
"What are you talking about Damon?"  
"You are gonna tell me everything."  
"Everything about what?"  
"About you. I want to know why you're so scared all the time. What happened to you. Who's bothering you. And most importantly, why are you so hell bent on pushing me away."

She could only stare at him with her mouth open. He wasn't really asking that of her, was he?  
"After that, you can go wherever you want," he added.  
"You got to be kidding me."  
"Nope."  
She had no time to react as he grabbed her bags and stalked off. He was already halfway across the street when she realized what was happening and took off after him.

"Damon!"  
After she almost got hit by a car and slipped on the sidewalk a few times - she wasn't really a sprinter or anything - Elena finally caught up with him by the elevators.  
"Give me my bags back."  
"No."  
"Who do you think you are?"

If looks could kill, she wouldn't just be dead, no, she would already be six feet under.  
"This is ridiculous."  
"Of course it is," he snapped.

The doors opened with a soft 'ding' that echoed in the luxurious lobby loudly and they stepped inside at the same time, both with a varying degrees of annoyance.

Damon's question from the day before rang in her head in circles. 'Do we have to do everything the hard way?' 'Do we..?'  
"Stop glaring," he spat out.  
"You stop glaring."  
"No, you..." He took a deep breath. She didn't catch what he said next, but his murmur sounded a lot like "someone shoot me now.'

"Gladly." She muttered under her breath.  
"What did you say?"  
"Nothing."  
"Good." He tossed her luggage through the open door to their - no, his - room and smirked. "After you."  
Elena made sure to bump into him with her shoulder. Was it childish? Yeah. Did she care? No.

"What comes next?" she asked him. "Are you gonna chain me to your bed or something?" Damon didn't seem to appreciate her attempt to lighten up the mood.  
To be honest, he didn't even look at her, too busy pacing up and down the middle of the room.

Elena broke the silence again. "You're giving me a headache."  
No response. She slumped down onto the bed. Is he going to hold her hostage? You never know. That's what you get for hanging out with crazy people, she thought. Huh, at least he looks good.

His clothes from last night were haphazardly discarded in a pile on the floor and Damon made sure to kick them around with every turn he made.  
"What did that shirt do to you, anyway?"  
He finally stopped moving. Their eyes locked in a battle of wills, but Elena refused to look away first. She could feel how he was burning her with his intense stare, the flame she knew he kept hidden away now in a full blast, furiously turning to fire, that neither of them could control.

"You don't get to do this!" he yelled.  
"Do what?"  
"Mess with me. Screw with my head. Whatever you want to call it - you don't get to do it."  
"I'm not messing with -" She tried to defend herself but he cut her off. "You know, when I first left California, I swore to God I would never make these same mistakes again. I tried so hard not to. And then you ruined all of it. I watched how it all fell apart. Because of you! Do you have any idea what you did? What you're doing to me?"  
She didn't but his words cut deep.

"For God's sake Elena."  
The tone of his voice took her back to the moment in Piano club, when he asked her 'what if it is?' He wanted to know what would happen if they never meet again, if their goodbye means forever. Now he wanted to know what happens if they do.  
"I'm sorry, okay?" He continued, "I know it's not fair. I know you don't owe me anything. But... is this, I mean, does this mean nothing? Does it not matter at all?"

So that's what this all was about. He just wanted to know if she cared. Because she told him she didn't. And he didn't want to believe it.

But what does she say? Will he let her go if he knows the truth? Better yet, does she want him to?

"I-I don't know."  
"Please just, I really need you to answer me."  
_Answer me, you little piece of shit. _  
Both lines echoed in her head almost simultaniously. The difference between the two startling.  
But Damon wasn't him. He wasn't demanding her answer, he was pleading.  
And he wouldn't hurt her if she didn't obey. That's how she knew she could.

"It matters, Damon. It's the only thing that does."  
"Then why are you doing this? I mean, one day you're fine, you say you feel the same way and the next it's the opposite? It doesn't make sense to me. Don't try to shut me out. Please, don't shut me out."

"It has nothing to do with how I feel."  
"Then what is it?"  
"It's me. I'm no good to you. Or anyone else for that matter. I'm like a disease, Damon."  
"Who told you that?"  
"No one had to tell me that. I know."

He sat down next to her. They didn't touch but they didn't have to do that for her to feel him with every fiber of her body.  
"I don't want to hurt you," she whispered.  
"Why would you hurt me, El?"  
He took her hand, she squeezed it tightly.  
"I don't know. It's what I do."

_It's what you do._  
Her memories sucked her back into the dark hole of misery, the one in which her brother's voice scorched her insides painfully.  
_It's what you do. You ruin everything_.  
"I didn't mean to," she told him back then and meant it.  
It was a trap. That monster trapped her into doing it.  
And he made it seem like she was doing the right thing.  
A month after Jeremy came home with his 'It's a girl' news, she made a monumental mistake.  
For two weeks, her bully made her feel like there were unacceptable things going on in her brother's home while he wasn't there.  
Yes, he told her that Vicky was neglecting their daughter, drowning herself in the numerous bottles of alcohol and drugs without a thought to the little girl. Years later, a truer words would never be spoken but back then it wasn't what he made her believe it was.  
He manipulated her into sending an anonymous report of child abuse to the local Social service. They acted upon it immediately and uh, casted troubles.  
The second Jeremy started asking questions like 'who could have done something like that?' the devil himself supplied him with a quick answer. Of course, he sold her out. Just then, when she watched her brother's face fall with the weight of her betrayal she realized what she's done. The last person that cared about her couldn't even look at her anymore. _He_ ruined their relationship. Fucking bastard.  
She tried to get Jeremy to forgive her and they did come a long way since then, but they were never the same again.  
Current situation was a 180 degree turn compared to that. The reality was, they were both using her now - both Jeremy and his wife - while she surrendered to their every request. Well, usually there was just one.

All because of the words he uttered on that stupid day. Seven years later, she still couldn't shake them.

_It's all your fault._

"Elena." Damon's voice brought her back to Earth. She blinked away the tears in her eyes.  
She had to get away.  
"I have to go," she stood up abruptly.  
Damon mimiced her movements. They were standing face to face, and way too close for Elena's comfort.  
"Look," with a jolt of sudden boldness she brushed her lips against his knuckles. "I don't want to fight in circles, okay? This is not forever. I'll see you again."  
"You don't know that." He ran his free hand through his hair. There was a war raging inside of him and it was clear as a day. He opened his mouth to speak many times but no words came out. Finally, he said, "If you're gonna leave me now then make sure to say a proper goodbye."  
"Why?"  
"Because you will never see me again."  
"That's -" she objected but he jumped in the middle of her sentence. "You won't."  
"You make no sense."  
"There will be no one to see, El. Don't you get it? I won't be her for you to see."  
"I don't understand." She didn't want to understand.  
"It's a miracle I'm still alive."  
"What are you talking about? Damon, don't." She prayed he wouldn't say the words, prayed he didn't really mean what he just said and everything it implied.  
She couldn't hear it. She needed not to.  
"Elena look at me." He tilted her chin up like he did a thousand times before but it didn't feel the same.  
He softly spoke up. "My road trip begun long before we met." He stroked her cheek. "I hopped into my car with an intention to find that something - the meaning, point - whatever it is that people look for these days, before my life's over. I drove through hundreds of towns, met millions of people but what for? I found nothing. Actually, I doubt there's really anything to find in the first place. But then I stumbled upon this beautiful woman in a stinky bar in Atlanta and she had me at 'leave me alone, you asshole.' One of the many to come, might I add." He chuckled and Elena whimpered with her face buried in his T-shirt. "And while we were together, I forgot to keep searching. We were friends and we had fun and it was all I needed for the longest time. You know why?" She shook her head 'no' against his chest. "I think I already found it."

"Found what?"  
"You. And I have no idea what it means yet. But I want to know. I need to. Last night I asked you to leave because I thought that maybe I was just wasting my time. That's a bullshit. I want to see where this is going. Now. I don't have the time for later."  
"But what's wrong with you? What are you even saying? " She straightened up. "Do you have any idea what you're asking of me?"  
"I know it's selfish."  
"Selfish? It's not just selfish Damon, it's -" It was her turn to pace the room. "I can barely stand the thought of letting you go now, so what's gonna happen later? And what if I fall in love with you? Then what, you'll just die on me?"  
_What if I'm already in love with you?_

Was she? She wasn't sure if she could call it love yet. But her feelings for him ran deep, deeper than she'd like them to. And it would only get worse. Much worse.

"I know it's too much to ask."  
"Then don't." Time to beg. "Please, don't do this to me."

"Stay with me."


	8. Chapter 8

_AN_: _Hello_ y_ou guys! I'm so sorry about the delay on this chapter, but life's been absolutely crazy this past few weeks. I promise the next one won't take this long. :)_

_I hope you enjoy and please drop a review!_

**July 14th **

_"Stay with me."_

_"Okay"_

The hardest task of them all - let it go. Let go of things that make it hard to breathe, things straining you and keeping you chained to the kind of thinking you've grown to hate but can't shake off.  
Take a good hard look in the mirror and press 'reset'. But how?  
Elena was trying to figure it out for a very long time with a little to none success. She tried to strip off everything holding her back, which in most cases was her own stubborn mind. How many times can you tell yourself you _are_ free before you start to believe it? A lot. Crazily lot.

Also, how do you stop yourself from running the other way when someone needs you to suck it up and hold on tight? That was easier than she'd ever thought it would be.  
It was easy to wake up every day and pretend like nothing has changed. Like she was the same person she's always been.  
What a bullshit.

"Elena?" Damon's smooth voice interrupted her thoughts.  
Sitting in the driver seat, she flashed him a quick look. "Yeah?"  
He hesitantly asked, "Would you mind... slowing down?"  
Her gaze turned towards the dashboard, the velocity displayed taking her by surprise. She didn't realize they were going so fast.  
"Thank you," Damon murmured and visibly relaxed after she did as he asked.  
She chuckled. "Afraid I'll crash your baby into a tree?"  
He made a face but didn't respond.  
The smile stayed firmly on her face, not exactly forced but to say it was natural would be straying from the truth quite a bit.  
Tension was their best friend these days, never failing to make silence awkward or brush of their hands too sexually charged. Her lust for him was something she's never felt before - too personal, needy and incredibly hard to contain. She wanted him. Bad.

Elena thought he might feel the same, but it was exceptionally hard to read him lately and she wasn't all that sure. He was closed off to her most of the time. Not that he didn't talk to her or didn't flirt with her - no, it was more than that. He didn't share his thoughts, didn't tell her anything else about himself. Plus, he also never told her exactly what was wrong with him. She tried to guess - AIDS, cancer - she tried all of the usual stuff, but he shook his head 'no' at all of them.  
A part of her was glad he didn't burden her with details. That way, she could pretend he never told her anything. And as far as she was concerned, he wasn't really sick at all. They were both alright.  
It gave her a chance to function and get through the day sane.  
It was enough for now.

That's why she wasn't yet freaking out. All in good time, though.

"I love this song," she murmured, reaching for the sound volume at the same time.  
It was an old one. She often heard it play from the retro radio in the kitchen when she was a child but it has been years since she had a chance to give it a listen again.

"Wouldn't take you for a fan."

She sang along in an answer. "Did I disappoint you? Or leave a bad taste in your mouth?"  
His eyes shone brightly when his rougher voice joined her soft one. "You act like you never had love and you want me to go without."

And just like that the uneasiness melted away. Together, they rocked another few U2 songs starting with All I Want Is You until the last tones of With or Without You faded from the speakers.  
Elena's fingers finally stilled after the relentless rhythm-tapping they'd done on the steering wheel.  
"So, what's the plan for tonight?" she asked the still humming Damon. He was completely devoted to music, she noticed. It was fascinating to watch him play the piano, it really was, but the most endearing part was how the melody in his head always made him restless with energy. She was in love with all the little things he did more than she was willing to admit.  
"We could stop for dinner in some bar."  
Like every other night, Elena added inwardly. Their current location was nowhere near New York City. Actually, they dragged the Camaro miles from it, through South Carolina and now Virginia, driving on and on through numerous nameless towns, smelly bars and scruffy motels.  
In other words, they were back where they started and Elena was getting pretty tired of it.  
"Do we have to?" she inquired, her tone laced with annoyance with their situation.  
"We can starve if you want."  
She shot him a look. Damon smirked. "Getting sick of all the men hitting on you?"  
"Yes." It was partly true. She was also sick of all the women hitting on him.  
"Well, we could always find some motel with a diner and have a night off."  
"Sounds like a plan."

It was still too soon for that. They had a few hours before the sunset and the highway was still as aimless as always.  
Elena wasn't sure where exactly they were but she would guess it was Virginia countryside. Traffic was almost non-existent and they haven't spotted any big city lights in quite a while.  
"Take that turn," Damon pointed to a narrow road on their left.  
"Alright."  
Soon enough, their poor car rocked uncontrollably due to the bumps on the tired back road - mostly scattered stones, often sharp and huge - while her teeth clattered in tune with the vehicle.  
"Great idea, Damon," she snapped.  
All he said was "Pull over."  
The engine died with a sigh. "Now what?"  
"Let's take a walk."  
"To where?"  
"Eternity and beyond," he announced theatrically.  
She snorted, amused. "Come on."

"I hate this weather." Damon muttered to himself when he appeared next to Elena. "Me, too."  
The heat outside hit them like a brick wall and paired with the off-charts humidity, their clothes were sticking to their bodies after a few short moments.  
However, breathing in the fresh air and stretching their stiff limbs felt like heaven after the long hours spent in the tiny vehicle.  
Elena took a bite of the sandwich she bought last night when they stopped at a gas station and realized that very few things tasted worse. She threw it back into her bag.

The path led them through an alley of trees and Elena closed her eyes, while flashing images floated behind her eyelids. Her balance wavered a bit and a pair of strong arms caught her form mid-step.  
"You're gonna fall if you won't watch where you're going."  
_I'll fall anyway. And you will too._ "I don't like forests."  
"It's not a forest. Just a few trees."  
"It looks like one."  
His breath fawned over her neck when he let out a sigh and Elena shivered, momentarily distracted. It felt good to have him close. Too good.

"Open your eyes," he whispered.  
"No."  
"Do you trust me?" His hold on her tightened and her fear ceased for a while.  
"Yes."  
"Then tell me." He was worried and asking her to give him what was rightfully his - her thoughts, her fears, her past and present. Everything she had such a hard time giving up.  
Elena opened her eyes slowly, taking in the sight in front of her, the soft breeze on her heated skin, the pleasant smell of nature and all that was pure and untouchable, unchanging - the pretty flowers, the greenest grass she's ever seen and even the gloomy looking shadows it all cast. It was real and beautiful, almost as beautiful as the man whose hands held her in place. The only scary aspect of the whole scene was the one she couldn't see. Her own mind taking turns with the world at making her miserable.  
It was all quiet now, though. Her thoughts in good order, not jumbled and messy, when she couldn't make sense of a single thing.

She didn't answer him but turned around in his arms and without a moment's hesitation took them both by surprise when she cupped his face in her hands and kissed him like her life depended on it.  
The world fell away, all that mattered was his lips moving in tune with hers and his gripping fingers on her hips. He tilted his head and one of her hands divided into his hair, pulling gently just as his tongue slipped into her mouth. She moaned appreciatively which seemed to spur his actions on because suddenly she felt his hands everywhere. In a strange way it was all too familiar - the way he kissed was so him, passionate and sweet, invading her senses in the most addicting manner. God, she never wanted to let go, never wanted anything more than she craved this man in that very moment.  
She didn't know how much time has passed before Damon brushed her lips softly one last time and leaned back, his breathing heavy, his eyes dazed. He looked at her with more emotion than she deserved and smiled with the smile that threatened to turn her into a puddle of goo.  
"Elena."  
Did her name always sound this sexy coming from his mouth? She shivered.  
"Yes?"  
He rested his forehead against hers. "You're distracting me."  
"Am not." She smiled innocently.  
"Are too." He never sounded so light-hearted.

She kissed his cheek and wiggled out of his grasp with a giggle. She tugged at his hand. "Come on. You promised me a walk to eternity."

"Your wish is my command, Milady."  
"It better be," she teased.  
He smirked. "You know, I didn't drag you through Virginia for nothing."  
"No?"  
"There's a town not far from here," he stated. "I want to take you there."  
He's never been to New York, but has been to Virginia? "You're from California, aren't you?"  
"Yes, why?"  
"I just didn't think you've ever been here before, that's all."

"My mom was from around here." Was? Elena didn't like the sound of that.  
He continued. "She met my father at NYU. He was a born New Yorker but he still moved to Mystic Falls for her."  
That was pretty... romantic.  
"So, I was kind of, born here too. We lived in Mystic Falls for a few years before we moved to L.A." His gaze hardened and he looked away. She had to ask: "Why?"  
"Mom died when I was 8. There was nothing in the world that would keep my father from leaving after that."  
She understood the pained look in his haunted eyes all too well. A loss like that wasn't something you ever truly overcome. It struck her then how similar they really were. "I'm sorry."  
He took a deep breath.  
"I'd just like to go back one last time."  
The meaning of his careless words froze the warmth that was spreading through her from the moment he touched her. The painful stroke of truth over the fragile walls of the denial she surrounded herself with made her heart stop and restart with more resistance it should have.  
Sometimes it hurt to think. But unfortunately, sometimes there wasn't anything else to do.  
In those times, she could either choose to torture herself or pretend not to exist altogether.  
Whichever was easier.

She snuggled up to his side and shook off the gloom setting over them. "Let's be happy tonight."  
"Happy how? Because I can definitely think of a few activities - okay it's really just one activity but you get my point -"  
"Shut up." Elena put her hand over his mouth effectively halting whatever he wanted to say next, although, she got the idea.

"Listen, you're saying the town's not far from here, right?" He nodded in confirmation. "We'll drive over there, get something edible to eat, and then you can show me around and take me to your favorite places. Sounds good?"  
He pondered over it for a moment. "Absolutely."  
"Great. Let's go back."

* * *

The ride to Mystic Falls was a short one, but it did provide enough time for Elena to think about the events of last hour.  
She kissed Damon. And now that she came back from her high, she couldn't believe it. Damn, this wasn't like her. But then again nothing - starting with her agreeing to accompany him on this crazy road trip to the latest stun she's pulled - has been in line with who she thought she was. But why, for the love of God, would she kiss him like that? The only answer she had was simple, really - she wanted to.  
And it served as an ice-breaker or in their case a tension-breaker, because Damon didn't hesitate to fill her in on everything he was probably dying to tell her but restrained himself from doing so.  
Was this all he was waiting for? Her to make the first step, to reach out to him? She was glad she did.

But then again, what now?  
And what did it even mean for them? Did she want it to mean anything?

It didn't take long before they spotted the Welcome sign on the side of the road and soon they were rummaging down the streets, looking for a place to get lunch.  
Damon slowed down and mumbled "I remember this place" when Mystic Grill came into their sight. They parked in front of it.  
"I think, it's a restaurant slash bar or something like that," he informed her.  
"We should go check it out then." Elena unbuckled her seat-belt and got out of the car promptly.  
Damon followed after her seconds later.

They entered the building together. The darkness inside strongly contrasted with the sharp brightness of the day and it took Elena's eyes a moment to adjust.  
Everything was dark - wooden tables and chairs, bar at the side of the room, even the lamps glowed with a dim light that added to the atmosphere of mystery.  
Elena loved the place instantly.  
Despite the gloominess, it was so homey and inviting, she felt a strong sense of ease washing over her.

The place wasn't all that crowded and they quickly found a free booth.  
Damon's wide eyes scanned the room in haste, taking in the details, comparing what he remembered to what he currently saw.  
"It's nice in here," Elena remarked with a smile.  
"It is," he agreed.  
"How much did it change?"  
"I'm not sure. I think it's always been this...," he stopped to look for the right word. At last, he said, "Dark. With good food."  
Just as the words left his mouth, a small blonde waitress appeared at their table, her eyes glued to Damon's perfect face.  
He's gotten hotter over the course of the past three months, if that was even possible. His hair grew longer and messier, leaving Elena's hands in constant state of itching to dive her fingers into the untamable locks.  
Damon flashed the girl his panty-dropping smile and, to both of their surprises, she turned crimson red and kind of ran away without a word.  
Bewildered, Damon wondered, "What the hell just happened?"  
Elena burst out laughing. "Oh my God."  
"Where did she go?" He turned around to search for her but the girl was nowhere in sight. "Did I do something?"  
His confusion was so innocent it made her laugh even more. She was wiping tears from her eyes by the time a tall guy with a pad in his hand cleared his throat loudly.  
"Excuse me," he said. "I'm so sorry about Emily, I have no idea what's gotten over her, she's never done something like that before, I - "  
"It's okay." Damon interrupted his speech.  
The guy blew out a breath of relief and smiled. "What have you even done to her?"  
"I have no idea."  
Elena quipped in. "He swept her off her feet. Literally."  
A laugh escaped the man and Elena immediately liked him. There was something about him that made her feel like she already knew him.  
"I'm Alaric, by the way."  
"Elena."  
"Damon."  
"Nice to meet you. Now, I'm gonna take your order before you two starve to death."

Alaric stopped by their table once more before they finished their late lunch and asked a few questions. They learned that he owned the place and that Mystic Grill is the only place to hang out in the little town. He also wrote down the directions for the best (and only) hotel in Mystic Falls and offered a free round on the house but they both refused with a promise to stop by later.

Alaric Saltzman wasn't the only friendly person they've encountered.  
In a town where everybody knew everybody, they quickly became the hottest news and by the time they checked into the Mystic Inn, another smiling face in the form of Mayor's wife, Carol Lockwood, greeted them upon their arrival.  
"I'm sure you'll love Mystic Falls," she gushed. "It's the best town in Virginia, I dare to say. And the safest one!"

The echo of her voice accompanied Damon and Elena all the way to their room. They let out a simultaneous sigh of relief when the door finally shut behind them.  
"What's wrong with these people?" Damon muttered and slumped down on the bed.  
"They're just friendly."  
"Wouldn't kill them to be friendly from afar."  
"Be nice." Elena threw a pillow at his face.  
He easily dodged it. "It's the first time I actually had to use my real name. I'm surprised no one recognized me."  
They've had this stupid game going on where they always booked their rooms under different names. A few nights back Elena was Maggie Simpson while Damon went with his favorite - Patrick Star. They always had a lot of fun figuring out scenarios under which the two characters met and also the looks all receptionists gave them were golden.  
"Well, you don't look eight anymore."  
"No shit, Sherlock."  
"Stop being mean."  
"You like it when I'm mean," he stated smugly.  
"And why is that?" Elena wasn't paying much attention to their conversation; her energy was focused on throwing dirty clothes and other items out of her bag. She was looking for something clean to change into after her shower, but that turned to be impossible.  
"Because you can be mean right back -" he paused when one of her shirts landed on his face. "What are you doing?"  
"I have nothing to wear," she grumbled.  
He sniffed on the piece of clothing in his hand. "This one smells good."  
She glared at him. "This is your fault, you know."  
"Of course it is. What did I do this time?" He was looking at her with that amused look that made her want to punch him. Or kiss him. In that order.  
"You purposely kept me from washing machine."  
"Oh damn. I can't believe you figured out my secret diabolical plan," he mocked.  
"Ass."

"I didn't purposely keep you from washing machine Elena. Although now that I think about it, does no clean clothes mean no clothes at all, because that's something I could get on board -"  
"Oh shut up, you dork."  
"Stop throwing stuff!" He yelped in pain as the remote control hit his head.  
"You deserved that."  
It was his turn to glare as he massaged his temple. "Just take one of my shirts, for heaven's sake."  
"I was planning on it."  
"I see. But you don't have to -" he groaned. "You're so cleaning that mess."  
"Am I?" she taunted him. He was too easy. "I call dibs on shower."  
"Suit yourself." He threw himself back on the pillows and hit his head on the headboard.  
"Shit!"

* * *

"Damon, are you sure you know the way?" Elena asked a little out of breath. She was, once again, following his dark silhouette down the road in the twilight of the day.  
They were sticking to the plan - Damon showed her around town a bit (they'd gotten lost twice), and now, he was trying to find his old home (which he swore was a big house at the outskirts of Mystic Falls) while Elena trailed behind him, trying to keep up with his pace.  
"I am sure." He turned to her. "It's just further than I thought. We should've taken the car."  
"You don't say," Elena uttered sarcastically.

He took her hand and squeezed it gently in a silent apology.  
"Elena?"  
"Hm?"  
"I think we should talk."

Oh, no. She knew he would say that sometime soon but prayed it wouldn't be today. Talking was the very last thing she wanted to do. Especially, when she wasn't yet sure what to say.  
So she played dumb. "Talk about what?"  
His face fell. He could read her too well for his own good. "The kiss. You should remember it. You were there."  
She nodded. "I was."

"Why did you kiss me?"

He searched her eyes for an answer and she had to look away.  
Her gaze fell upon a large house - a mansion to be exact - at the end of a long driveway.  
"Damon. Look."

She could almost hear his heart stop as his gaze swept over the beautiful boarding house.  
His grip on her hand tightened and for a moment, Elena was transformed into a different time, when it was her standing in front of a house that was no longer home. She's done the same thing before. She had to go back one last time.

Damon stood silent, his mouth slightly open with words that refused to come out.  
Elena talked for him. "Wanna go check it out?"  
He nodded. An automatic light signaled the oncoming of two strangers to the residents of the mansion and Elena saw one of the curtains move as they slowly approached.

Something caught Damon's eye. "Those handprints..." He pointed to the tiny prints of baby's hands on the front door's frame. "They're mine."  
"My God," she bent over a little and ran her fingers over the shaped paint. "I can't believe you were this little."

Damon chuckled. "I was just born 25."  
She straightened up and nudged his shoulder. "Come on. Knock."  
"You think we should?"  
"Of course."  
"But you talk."  
"What are we, twelve?"

It was the coincidence of all coincidences that it was Alaric living in Damon's former home with his wife Meredith. They were invited in before they even had a chance to explain why they were looming on their property and their evening took a very pleasant turn.  
Everything about the place was so huge and warm and Elena wished she could watch the flames dancing in the impressive fireplace forever. Damon showed her his old room, added a few stories that made her grin from ear to ear and now he was simply sitting next to her with his arm draped over her shoulders, conversing with their new friends like it wasn't a few hours they knew each other but years instead and sitting there together on a Saturday night was the most ordinary thing in the world.

But there was nothing ordinary about him. He was good. He was everything.

"So, how long have you two been together?" Meredith asked, her hand with the wine glass pointed in their direction.

"We aren't –" Elena began but Damon jumped in quickly. "Three months."

She looked at him with question; he just shrugged and took a sip out of his own glass.

"And you've been what? Road tripping?"

"Something like that."

"I like you two," Alaric stated. "It's rare to find kids really in love these days. I saw it at school all the time, back when I was a teacher; they think they know what a real love is, but they have it all wrong…"

And that's how the conversation turned to love, then to school system, politics – Elena zoned out at this point, - and in the end the men engaged in a heated discussion about sport.

Elena's eyes were closed with her head rested on his chest, thinking how it all might turn out right if she gives him – them – an actual chance. What was there to lose, anyway?  
"Don't fall asleep on me, baby," Damon whispered softly when all other sounds around her blurred into one, "I can't carry you all the way home."

The thing was, she was already home.


End file.
